Atmosphere
by IDRC
Summary: South Park is a small town, but everyone's got their story. Trigger warning
1. Nuts and Bolts

**Chapter Track: Teenagers by My Chemical Romance**

I wish I could sleep like a normal fucking human being. It actually kind of doesn't make sense to me how I am able to function so long on the meager amount of sleep I'm capable of obtaining. This is typically an hour at a time- three on a good day. But I don't sleep every day. You know, it's probably my intake of coffee. It would make sense.

I need coffee because I'm tired all the time because I can't sleep, but I probably can't sleep because of how much coffee I drink.

I think I'm smarter than people give me credit for. No, I think I'm smart in a common sense type of way, not in the logical sort. I still get good grades but I don't think you necessarily have to be smart to get good grades, just listen and complete work. The work shouldn't be hard if you listen.

I don't have many friends at school so listening isn't hard for me. It's not like there's much else to do anyways. Did I say many? I meant I don't have any friends at all. Who wants to hang out with the psycho, twitchy, gay kid? They all probably think one day I'm gonna fly off the handle and kill my family or myself… probably both.

Whatever, I'm way more collected than I appear. I only twitch because of the coffee and I'm much better at controlling it now. Probably from the amount of drugs I take but regardless.

There are so many drugs. I have my prescribed drugs. The type doctors give me for anxiety, my ADHD and my crazy. But then there are drugs that aren't even legal. Those are so much better, _in my opinion_. They make me feel relaxed and normal, even happy sometimes. I guess the doctor's pills can sometimes do the same thing.

The sun's gonna come up soon.

I throw my legs over the edge of my bunk bed and leap. I tumble and roll. After the fall I lie on the ground and stare at the ceiling. My ceiling is covered in glow in the dark stars. I also drew on it with paint. My room's pretty cool, I think. Too bad no one would ever come over to see it. That's probably for the best. I spent way too long getting it exactly how I wanted it, considering I spend most of my life in here alone. People typically ruin things for me.

I pull myself off the floor and grab my coat. I slip my arms through the sleeves and slip on my battered up converse. There's a hole in the left one from years of wear and they're a faded color of green. They're my only shoes and I always wear them. I wouldn't ask for new ones. These have character.

I grab my thermos of coffee, freshly made, and pull my window open. I grab the ledge outside above my window, place one foot on the sill and lift my weight up. Next I grab the edge of the roof, setting my other foot on the sill. I use both hands on the roof to hoist myself up and throw myself on top of our house.

After I'm settled I have to calm myself down because that shit never gets any less scary. I wipe the little bit of sweat collected on my forehead on the back of my sleeve and let out one last breath. Our house is in the perfect spot to watch the sun come up. If you're on the roof, that is.

It's especially beautiful when you're high. I'm surprisingly not right now. Watching the sunrise in the morning before school just makes me have a better day. Maybe it comforts me to know that the sun came up. Maybe that's why I can't ever sleep.

I glance across the street.

There's a kid wearing a blue sweater and matching hat with a yellow puff on the top and ear flaps. That kid goes to my school. Craig Tucker. He's smoking a cigarette. What's he doing out here so early? That's just fucking weird. I know I'm awake but I'm the psycho kid anyways. Plus, I don't sleep. He's normal so what the hell is that?

He catches me staring and doesn't hesitate to stare directly back. I bet our thoughts are the same: _I knew I was weird but what the fuck is that kid doing up at four?_ But I'm on my roof and he seems to be having a stroll. Odd. But, okay, whatever makes you happy. To each their own or something.

Still, I feel like turning away first means he wins something. Or I feel like that's what he thinks. What the hell?! That's why I'm up at four, because no one else is and I don't have to deal with people and now I have to have a staring contest with some freak who's walking around in the dark, smoking. What the fuck.

He stops walking. His hands are in his pocket and his cigarette hangs out his mouth, ash falling to the pavement. I blink at him. He's gonna make me miss the sunrise. Goddamnit! But still I keep my eyes fixed on his. He probably thinks somebody's scared of him, which is actually kind of humorous. Does he know who I am? I'm the psycho kid. _He_ should be afraid of _me_.

Psycho kid sitting on his roof at four in the morning. Seems pretty accurate.

He doesn't look fazed or confused as to why I'm staring. He doesn't really look anything. He's just staring back. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and exhales a shit load of smoke before placing it right back where it was. Fuck it. I turn back to the sun and chug my coffee. What a creepy bastard. I missed a lot of the sunrise but at least it came up.

The suns completely in the sky and shining brightly- well, as brightly as it can behind the huge pregnant snow clouds... It's gonna snow today, I think. That's cool. I like snow. I finish my coffee and swing back through my bedroom window.

That kid was _really_ weird. He was cute though, in a mysterious-I-might-dance-around-my-house-naked-when-no-one's-home type of way. I bet he does. What a freak. That's kinda hot...

* * *

In third period Eric Cartman licked his finger and stuck it in my ear. Motherfucker. I kicked him in the balls...

And then I had a panic attack.

I don't feel like I can ever be clean again after that. FUCK! What the hell is wrong with him? The teacher told me to go to the nurse so she can give me pills that I didn't take this morning. Fuck that. I leave school to smoke pot. It wouldn't be the first time and it most definitely will not be the last.

I light my joint as soon as the heels of my shoes are off campus. I think I'll head home and grab my scooter. I gotta make sure to not get caught. My mother is home. Not that she'd care. She'd tell me she didn't, at least. But I know my mother worries about me. That doesn't make me feel good.

This weed makes me feel amazing though.

I honestly think South Park is the place for me because I can walk down the street during school hours smoking a blunt. The law enforcement here sucks and there's not enough people for someone to catch me. Someone that cares, at least.

Plus, I'm _that psycho kid_.

Assholes.

They'd probably be happy that I'm high so I'm relaxed and they know I'm not gonna lose it anytime soon. One more safe day for their kid at school.

 _Assholes_.

I'm not crazy, I'm just not normal. And maybe a bit unstable. And sometimes I twitch. Whatever.

Eric Cartman's spit is in my ear. How could I not die? Sorry, I know that's really off topic but I've been trying so hard to forget that and I can't. I hate that motherfucker! He just purposely tries to set me off! Make me look my most craziest so people can remember that I'm the psycho kid. If anything Cartman is the psycho kid! Look at all the shit he's done in his life! I should've said something about him not having a dad because that sets him off. Everybody knows it. But then he'll actually hit. He'd probably try to kill me and then I'd be trying to kill him. It'd just be South Park's Crazy Kids trying to kill each other because they're fucking crazy!

That's funny.

I laugh.

I'm at my house now. I'd go inside and make something to eat but mother is home. How sad. That's upsetting to my munchies. I could walk to the store but my wallet is in my bag, is in the school still. I left it there. Sometimes I'm an idiot. A lot of the time.

Instead I go to the park.

It's vacant. Most of the time it is. That's good. People make it hard for me to act how I like to act Which is my twisted and slightly pathetic adaptation of normal. I went to counsiling for a really long time, in _and_ out of school. My psychotherapist told me I think too much. He was right but that didn't stop me from doing it. And evidently we quit the counsiling when I finally convinced my mother it was not doing a damn thing to help me and I hated how much of her money she spent on it.

I choose a green swing. Because green is my favorite color. It's a calming color. So it's the color of my room and my hoodie. My favorite hoodie. It's baggy and warm and comfortable. Does it make me look like a hobo? Yeah. Do I care? Nah. It's got character. Especially since I sewed on this little coffee cup. It's horrible and crooked but if it were perfect, I don't think I'd have liked it. My OCD is backwards and all out of whack.

But, then, I'm the psycho kid.

 _Fucking_ assholes!

It's absolutely stupid- people, I mean- I will never understand. So I sit here on my green swing- I've decided to name him Steve- and kick my feet because I have no one to push me. Even if I did everyone's at school.

I think I like to make myself sad.

There's a small noise behind me to my right. I identify it as a breaking twig and assume, in the way that my mind has created to try to keep me sane enough to not be noticed in this small town, that it is a small woodland animal. I take a big gulp and slowly glance over my shoulder.

It's not an animal. I'm startled to find Wendy. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail and she's wearing a heavy pink winter coat, her yellow skirt is peaking out under it and then she has purple polka dot leggings with fuzzy brown snow boots. "Hey, Tweek," she greets me with a half-hearted smile. Why is Wendy Testaburger skipping school? Maybe my weed is laced and I'm tripping. I would test this by reaching out to see if my hand goes through her but she's out of my reach and I'm too lazy anyway. Wendy, real or not, places herself on the blue swing next to me.

I blink at her a while. If it is Wendy she knows I'm high, I still have my blunt (no longer lit however) and I know Wendy does not condone the use of illegal drugs, no matter what your age but especially if you're a minor. Fuck Wendy, man. I'm not in the mood for her shitty hippy bullshit.

Wendy glances at me. "Can I have some of that?" she asks, pointing a lazy finger at my hands. She's pointing to my blunt. That doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense. I nod slowly. If Wendy can successfully hold my joint then she is real and that is mind-fucking-blowing. I hand it to her along with my lighter. Wendy fumbles a lot, leading me to believe this is her first time smoking- anything.

I feel the need to help her out and give her a little guidance. "Hold it to your mouth and I'll light it for you," I tell her. She gives me a look that I can't identify and scares me but the blunt didn't fall to the ground so this is Wendy. This is a real person, unless I really have lost my marbles, but I'm trying to stay positive so this is a real person. She holds the blunt between her lips and I try lighting it again for her, using one hand to shield the flame from the cool breeze. "Just inhale," I say not sure if I'm helping or just being annoying. I'm too high to care.

Wendy does a good job. She holds it for a while and when she releases she doesn't even cough until like a minute later. We swing and smoke together. I don't know if Wendy will feel anything because this may be her first time but for me I'm soaring. I close my eyes and even though the air is thin my lungs are full and my hair whips my face and wraps around my cheeks.

I let Wendy finish off the blunt because I remember I have to go back to school after this and that's not smart. It wouldn't really matter, I guess but I don't want to do that. I'd pass out at school and that's not okay. I spare a glance at Wendy and she's got her eyes closed too and she swings higher than me. She feels something. That's good; I don't want to waste my bud.

"It's good?" I ask her. She simply nods and hums "So, Wendy," I start, slowing the pace of my swinging, "why are you out here? We're in like, third period."

Wendy's eyes open and she looks at me. Her eyes are dark, a feature I wish I possessed. Dark eyes are harder to read. She proves this theory for me. Her eyes shoot to the ground and she shrugs. "I got tired. I wanted to leave. I just- I needed a break," she finishes. Her eyes dart back to me, "You won't tell, right? I mean, you're out here too so you can't!"

I shrug, "It's really none of my business anyway." Wendy nods in an appreciative manner and kicks her feet in the sand. "I don't really care," I conclude. I haven't talked to anyone like this in a long time. It feels nice. I didn't think Wendy would turn out to be one of those people to talk to me like a human being, oppose to a wild animal. I don't really know Wendy. I judged her though, but I didn't think she'd be like this. It feels like it's been an hour that we've been swinging, but it's probably only been twenty minutes and she hasn't said one word about how smoking damages your lungs or something about pollution and dying whales.

I wonder what's got her under, but sort of don't actually care at the same time. Was it insensitive to tell her that though? How am I supposed to know how to act around a girl? Fuck it, she can grow a spine. I have my own problems to worry about. I sure don't need hers to add to that weight. "I like that you don't care," she says. "People who care are... _annoying_ ," she says this in a way where I feel like someone said this to her _about_ her. "I wanna stop caring too," she tells me, "but it's not in my nature. I just can't."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I admit. I am still high and Wendy's speaking some pretty deep seeping words. I need her to slow down. Maybe she's not as affected as I thought- or maybe she's a philosophical stoner. "But I think you should just be yourself. I know it sounds cliché, but it's worked for me so far- wait... no, it actually hasn't, really." I blink in thought. "But I don't give a fuck about people and that doesn't work for me so maybe you should just do your 'care' thing."

She nods like she understands but I wonder if she really does. "This place sucks."

"Preach," I smooth my hair back and away from my face, fed up with being tickled.

"We should hang out more," Wendy decides. "Where are you going now?"

I shrug, "I'm hungry but I don't have any money or food."

"And if we go to a business they'll rat us out." I hadn't thought of this but she's right. There's no way Wendy is high but her eyes glow red. We contemplate food for a good give minutes before losing focus and talking about an old karate movie we both used to watch when we were little. After a while, I deem Wendy a decent person and not in a sense that she gives to charity and helps people in need because everyone already fucking knows that, it doesn't mean she isn't annoying- but she isn't. Wendy is decent. And that's a lot coming from me, I think. We walk back to school.

Wendy promises me a bag of chips she has stored in her locker and we discuss the possibility of hanging out again soon, though I'm very apprehensive, but she did offer me food and anyone who gives me food is good in my book.

We get to school just in time for the bell for fourth and part ways. We missed lunch but she did give me the chips, I feel forever in her debt. She somewhat satisfied my munchies and for that she is a hero. And I'm on with the rest of my boring ass day.

* * *

Kenny McCormick fascinates me because despite being probably almost just as weird as me, he is considered normal, attractive, even. Maybe it's _because_ he's attractive that people over look his weirdness. But then that means I'm ugly. No. We're probably just different weirds. I'm a weird introvert but he'll go out and make friends. And they get to know his weird.

I've never thought of myself as ugly. I know I'm not. I'm just weird and also I don't try to flaunt my best feature (which, if you ask me, is my ass, without question). I wear baggy clothes and rarely cut and or brush my hair. It's probably a defense mechanism. Like a porcupine's needles keep away predators. They see the spikes and walk away. People see my hair and they walk away. I think if I wanted to I could look equally, if not better than Kenny. _Maybe_. In a way.

We're the same so I'd have to! Blonde hair and blue eyes (though, mine do lean more towards the green side… irrelevant). He may be a bit more muscular but I'm not lanky. I'm not built either. I'm just kind of, nothing. That's cool though. Nothing gets people to leave me alone- _for the most part_.

I know Kenny's just as fucked up as I am because I caught him on numerous occasions being _'the psycho kid'_. First was way back in elementary, probably. I went to the park, usually barren, and he was on top of one of the pavilions, hanging off the edge upside down. I'd have asked him what the fuck he was doing, because it was also late- not morning yet, but dark- but he kind of scared the shit out of me. I was way twitchier back then. I think now I've started to fake being as twitchy as I was. Also a defense mechanism.

Humanity scares me.

I'm high.

I'm hungry.

School is absolutely miserable. I finished this assignment five minutes into class. We've been going over this shit every day, I better understand it! Everyone in here should be able to do this while high, backwards, on fire. But, regardless of us being in this unit for a month and our teacher guiding us- _them_ \- through it, Kevin answers incorrectly. Again.

I could just about lose my shit.

I stand, attracting, virtually, no one's attention. I walk over to the work basket and dump my papers into it, glancing at everyone who is pretending I don't exist. My book bag slips off my shoulder, I re-adjust. My teacher dares to glance at me and my activities. When I get to the door I give her a nice salute before leaving the room.

I pass by the library. Through the huge window I see a blue hat with three little yellow puffballs and the hat itself is attached to a boy. A Craig Tucker.

I grimace. _Gross_.

Now that I think about it, Craig could be a 'psycho kid' with me and Kenny. Despite being a loner, (See: Craig in library during class (He's always fucking in there. Also, he goes for walks at four in the morning (That's when the freaks come out (everybody knows this))) people always are around him.

I can't say it's because he's attractive like Kenny because he's really not.

Craig looks like he started the awkward stage of puberty and then it never ended. I guess it could be seen as cute, but only to a creeper like me. He's absolutely not an extrovert so I don't get it. Maybe it's who he hangs out with.

Token managed to climb the social ladder over the years. His popularity really went through the roof when one year in middle school he got dreads. The girls fucking lost it. He's probably had sex with our entire grade's girl population, _twice_. And if I'm correct he's currently working through the juniors. Him, being rich combo-ed with Clyde's outrageous ability to throw a party and boom, our sophomore _Gods_. I kid you not.

Somehow, Craig is friends with them. They're always surrounded by people, _Craig's_ always surrounded by people.

Craig, awkwardly tall, luckily athletic to balance out, still has braces from middle school due to severely fucked up teeth and heavy teasing. He got them late because I don't think his parents had the money before and had to save up, but I don't know this for sure. I know his jeans are too short for his legs because he's always wearing those fucking boots. His face looks rough.

What's he always thinking about? He must think. He never talks or smiles. He doesn't really show any emotion other than a scowl. He must think about something. Maybe he thinks about nothing. Sometimes I zone out for hours and when I wake up, I can't even remember what I was thinking about or if I was at all, for that matter.

But I greatly believe Craig Tucker thinks about crazy shit. I couldn't see it before because he was always around people, pretending to be normal and I never caught him hanging upside down at the park.

But I did catch him taking a stroll at four in the morning. Fucking closeted-freak bastard.

I'm intrigued.

That's no good. I'm gonna go to our smoker's alley. I don't smoke. That's fucking gross but I like the company of our school's smokers.

As I come around the corner I see orange, undoubtedly Kenny. He wears that jacket every day. I, sometimes, think it may be all the wardrobe he owns. Possible.

He glances at me. What I like about Kenny- besides him being a 'psycho kid''- is he can also read minds. Hell yeah, that's creepy as fuck but knowing that he knows what I'm thinking almost makes me feel like we're friends. As sad as that sounds. And he acknowledges me as a person unlike most of this town, who instead treat me like a wild animal with rabies that they're too scared to get too close to. Kenny understands because he's psycho and can read my mind.

Once I'm close enough he holds up an open pack of cigarettes from his squatting position. I shake my head to his offer. I wouldn't even have taken one if I did smoke. I'm not sure how Kenny managed to even get those cigarettes, let alone when he'll be able to get another pack. Maybe he has more money than I know. Whatever, I don't smoke.

He sits and smokes and I just watch him. Kenny's hair is almost as long as mine, though I'm certain for different reasons. His family can't afford haircuts. I like to pull my hair out. If it were short, I'd start to go bald. However, the hair on the left side of my head is significantly shorter than the right side and this gives me anxiety.

I wonder if Kenny knows about Craig. I mean, he must he's psychic. But I'm also pretty good at calling out 'The Crazies' but I just found out about him. I'd ask but I never really talk. I wouldn't know how to start.

"Rough day?" Kenny asks, startling me. I just stare down at him. "You left class and you're high," he explains. I don't ask how he knows I'm high. He's a fucking mind reader, plus a fucking junkie too.

I shrug. Did he start talking because I wanted to talk to him? He must have. Kenny never would have otherwise. Not that he wouldn't talk to me he just knows I wouldn't answer. "What's on your mind?"

Perfect, not even awkward at all! I applaud Kenny and his magically mind reading capabilities, topped with his superb social skills. Good one, McCormick. I note this for future reference. "You know Craig?"

"Tucker?" he questions. I nod. "I know of him," Kenny says, eyeing me. I won't look at him. He can read minds. Looking at him would give me away, whatever, giving myself away means. I don't even know what I'd be hiding. "Why?"

"He's interesting," I say. "What do y- you think about him?"

Kenny shrugs, "He's weird- rude too." I nod. Kenny doesn't have much else to say about Craig which is also irritating. I actually fucking talked to him so I thought I could get something out of Kenny that I didn't already fucking know. He can read minds, for fuck sake. "Sometimes I see him riding his penny board around town really late at night, but usually like, in town around shops. It's weird."

"You talked to him?"

Kenny shakes his head. "I don't think he saw me. It was weird. I didn't want to disturb him," he says. "Plus, I was in no place to judge. I was up too. I can't ever sleep." Me neither. "So, definitely weird." Should I tell him about how I saw him this morning? What if he doesn't care? " _Interesting_?" Kenny repeats what I said from earlier, taking a long drag. "What does that mean?" What does it sound like, Kenny?! I fucking want his ass, _duh_! Kenny knows exactly what it means. He can read people like books, so as soon as Craig's name came out of my mouth he knew.

I shrug. "He's weird, like you said- rude too," I say. "I'm gonna go." Kenny waves.

Craig Tucker: what a weirdo.

* * *

When I get home my mother's in the kitchen. I think she's making dinner. I discard my book bag and start for the stairs. "Tweek," she calls. I roll my eyes but stop. "Can you come here?"

I trudge into the kitchen and raise an eyebrow at my mother's back. "Yeah?" My mother turns towards me with a mother look on her face. I groan, " _Yes_ , mother?"

She sighs, tucking some hair behind her ear. "I was just wondering how school was."

"Um, the same it's been every day for the last eleven years." Her eyes narrow. "I didn't freak out and kill anybody," I say.

"Tweek," my mother uses her warning tone.

"What?" I ask. "That's all you care about- if I attracted attention to myself. I didn't." My mother doesn't need to know about the Cartman thing and frankly I'm trying to forget it anyways. If she did, it'd be this whole huge thing and it's not a huge thing and if there's one thing my mother hates, it's attracting attention. Which sucks for her since I'm her son and we live in such a small town.

My mother continues to cook but I know she's not done with me. "Have you tried to make friends?" she asks. "Do you even try anymore?"

"I used to," I say, picking at my nails, as I become restless. "High school kids just... don't get me."

My mom stops what she's doing and approaches me. She places her hand on my cheek. "I just want you to be happy."

"I'd be happy if you guys bought me a ukulele." Her hand drops. "I'm serious," I tell her.

"Tweek, you're too isolated. It worries me."

"I have you _and_ dad. I'm not isolated, mother." I tell her. She goes back to cooking, not acknowledging my comment so I continue, "I'm at school around assholes every day, mom! I'm not isolated." I tell her.

"Tweek, language!"

"English. Is there another one you know?"

She sucks her teeth, "You're spoiled."

"Thanks," I say, sarcastically. "Whose fault is it?"

"So you _don't_ want a ukulele?" She glances over her shoulder.

"I'll be in my room." I walk away and start ascending the stairs.

"Dinner will be done soon."

I think my parents know I'm not as crazy as everyone thinks me to be. But I also think they know I'm nothing like normal. And they don't know what to do about it because we've tried therapy, I refused to take my pills, I have no friends, and I think they know I do a lot of drugs. So they worry and blame themselves. It fucking sucks.

They don't ever say anything about what I do because they know how hard it is for me to be happy. They also don't want to flat out say it's okay so they just ignore it. I guess, pretend like they don't know.

I'm so grateful for my mother. Despite her hating the attention attractor that I am, she's always there to bail me out, comfort me, and clean up the mess. My dad is supportive- or he says he is often, but he says I need more self-control, otherwise I might mess up majorly in public and then they'll take me away and he and mom can't do anything about it anyway. He's right and I appreciate his bluntness. Mom tries to sugar coat everything all the time. He's always there afterwards though to give me a real lecture that makes me feel like shit and reevaluate everything I know.

I don't want to think about this anymore.

So I climb up my bunk bed and flop down on it. Under it is a desk with my laptop and shit. My room's pretty cool, I think. The walls are covered in dream catchers, band posters, and ugly sketches. Hanging from the ceiling I have Chinese lanterns of all colors, along with wind chimes.

It probably looks like a crazy kid's room, no matter how much I think it's just really freaking awesome. My bed sheets are sailor moon and they don't match my rug. My rug's fuzzy and colorful. It takes up most of my floor, which is hard wood. That's why I have the rug. I'm always dropping shit, so the rug keeps everything from breaking. If it gets dirty, we can wash it. That soothes my soul.

I feel a nap coming on. Good, I don't think I've slept since last week. I let my eyes close and sleep engulf my body.


	2. Defective in Solitude

**Chapter Track: Wait by M83**

I have a problem. His name is Craig. Yeah, it's a Craig Tucker problem. I don't know what happen, but he's everywhere now. I see him in the morning right before the first bell rings (Who knew his locker was just across from mine), I see him walking through the halls, I see him headed to lunch, I see him walking home. There haven't been any more night occurrences though, but I thought it was weird there were any to begin with.

One day I went to the smoker's alley and he was there smoking and I fucking freaked out. I don't even know why. But I screamed and then I ran away. I didn't get to see his face but _fuck_ , man!

THAT'S SO FUCKING WEIRD!

What is wrong with me? What is _wrong_ with me?

There are times that I especially don't like my crazy. That was one of those moments. He probably thinks I'm a lunatic now, if he didn't already. Jesus, why do I care so much? Why did I run from him anyway?

He's just a freaking kid, man. Am I scared of him? If so, then why the fuck am I scared of him?! I can't stop accidently making eye contact. Or I'll catch myself zoning out while staring at his face. He never notices- unless it's the eye contact- but still. He's not a monster! He's just a boy- a cute one, at that.

...Is it _because_ I think he's cute?

Yeah, Craig's no Kenny McCormick, definitely no Clyde Donovan but, he's got something about him. Something about his braces, in those rare moments he does open his mouth, usually to yawn. Or his hat, he seems to never forget. His freckled nose with no bump in its arch, his eyes, they're really nice. Or even his worn boots.

Oh.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

How can I like him?! He's a potato! He never does anything! He never talks, smiles, or- just ANYTHING! Maybe, though... maybe when he goes home, when he's all alone, he's a complete freak.

Is that the attraction? Not really knowing him, but knowing no one knows? But I know he's a freak. I just wanna see it. I wanna catch him being himself. Like me. Like when I sit on my roof to watch the sunrise because I don't sleep. Or when I went to the top of that hill once when it was snowing and rolled down sideways because I had no sled or friends. Or when I went to the store once and bought a bunch of french-fries so I could build a French Fry Empire.

Etcetera.

You know who would know him- the real him? His sister, obviously, maybe Clyde and Token... How does this help me? I can't just walk up to any of these people. They all think I'm crazy. Now even Craig does and I had a feeling that maybe he didn't.

I want to know Craig Tucker. I want to find his freak too.

During lunch Craig likes to smoke. I have a theory it has something to do with his people. To me that's just so freaking adorable.

I'm too scared to go to the alley while he's there now because of how badly I embarrassed myself last time. If I showed up he'd probably look at me weird. No, he wouldn't. Craig never changes his face. But, I'd know what he was thinking and that's all equal right? Does anyone know what Craig thinks? No, I doubt even Kenny could tell me.

Speaking of which, "Kenny," I realize that when I talk in a normal voice I'm almost whispering. Though I know the blonde heard me anyways, I try again. "Kenny," I say.

"Yeah, Tweek?" Kenny is sitting on the dirty concrete that's layered with snow. I know his bum will be wet later but I don't think Kenny cares about that stuff. I care about that stuff. He looks up at me, probably because I never really address him first.

"I was wondering," I start but pause for a moment when I luckily, realize how what I'm about to ask sounds. Especially since this is Kenny. I have no other way to put though. Well, I could be blunt and say, 'my parents are worried about me becoming a serial killer because I have no friends and, generally hate people but I think you're cool and was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner!' but I don't think that's a very appealing offer. I bet he'd say yes though. I know he would, actually. "Uhm, just- like, if you want to, I mean. It's not weird!" I stammer.

"Take your time," Kenny throws one of his stupid pretty ass smiles that I'm sure has gotten him in numeral girls pants and I clench my jaw because he's fucking perfect even though he's fucking crazy and for a moment I'm envious. I wipe my brain.

"I mean, it kinda sounds weird, but it isn't. Wanna come over for dinner tonight?" I press my lips together tightly and wait. It's painful for me because I remember how awkward I am and it hurts my soul. This is the reason I don't talk to people.

Kenny nods and shrugs, "Yeah, why not?" He shoves his cigarette into the ground and twists it out. He stands and dusts the snow off his lower half, unsuccessfully since it's seeped through his clothing. "Any reason in particular for the sudden invitation?"

I know he'll know if I'm lying but I still don't feel inclined to tell the truth either so I settle with, "This school- this _town_ , it really sucks, but you... you're okay."

Kenny nods again, "Alright. We can walk to your house after school."

"Thanks," I tell him.

He pats my shoulder, scaring the hell out of me and I flinch back a few feet. Kenny apologizes. "You don't have to thank me, Tweek," he says and my face heats up with embarrassment.

The bell rings.

* * *

I don't know what to do about this Craig thing. I kind of feel like I'm almost obsessing over him at this point, but then I kind of, also feel like he's purposely putting himself in front of me to stare at and wonder about his life. And one time I caught Kenny catch me staring at Craig and that's no good. Now he knows I like him. He knows I like him because Kenny could tell who you like if you look at them. I know it. And it's never good when people know stuff about you. Then you have to trust them and shit. Do I like Craig? I don't know him but shit, he's attractive in his own little way. Kenny would at least know that I'm lusting over him and I don't know which is worse.

But, Kenny and I are friends now...? So I should trust him...? Plus, who cares if he tells someone, everyone should already pretty much assume I'm gay even though I haven't announced it to anyone or officially been with anyone. The people I have slept with are so far in the closet but fuck, did they know what they were doing.

Anyway... I guess it'd be bad if Craig heard. But Kenny's nice and smart. He wouldn't do that to me. But I don't really know him. I don't really know anybody. Fuck, man.

So after school ends Kenny finds me and he gives me this weird face but I could tell what it meant. _I know something I shouldn't._ I don't react. "So," he says. "Craig Tucker?" I don't react. "I was wondering why you asked about him so randomly. I should've known."

You _did_ know. "Know what, Kenny?" I challenge.

Kenny shrugs, "Nothing, I guess. So what's your mom cooking?"

I hadn't thought this through as much as I was freaking out over it. I was mostly concerned with him just agreeing and not getting rejected. "I don't know," I admit. I hadn't even told my parents someone was coming over. I just assume that they'll be too happy to give a shit. I'm right too.

When we make it to my house and step inside my mother's cooking and my dad's probably in his office. "I'm home," I call out, lazily throwing the door back.

My mother's head pops out of the kitchen. Her eyes dart from me to Kenny. "Oh, hello," she says to him. "I didn't know we were having guests." She shoots me a look.

" _A_ guest," I correct her, sending a look back.

She comes out of the kitchen completely. I gesture to Kenny. "Mother, meet Kenny. Kenny, meet mother."

"Kenneth," Kenny corrects. "Hello, Mrs. Tweak, it's wonderful to finally meet you." He shakes her hand. Mother looks impressed. "Dinner smells amazing," he says.

"Oh, please," my mother gushes. Kenny's charming ass. On the outside my mother is acting completely normal but I know she could be no happier. Her thoughts are probably along the lines of, ' _Not only has my baby made a friend, it's a lovely boy with manners!_ '. Not to mention, she probably thinks he's my boyfriend.

"Oh, this is lovely!" she says, clasping together her hands with fresh neatly polished nails. "I'm so glad you're making friends." That's the point. I'm really not and even if Kenny weren't just here to convince you I were, you wouldn't know if I were making friends just from one person visiting, Jeez.

"Yeah," I stare at the floor.

"Richard, come meet Tweek's friend!" My mother calls to my dad. I smack my forehead with the palm of my hand. We're never getting out of here!

Something falls in my dad's office and then he comes rushing out. He probably can't _believe_ I have a friend over. Everyone's an ass. My dad shuffles out of his office, adjusting his glasses. Dad doesn't look like he'll buy it as easily but I think Kenny's determined. Dad shakes Kenny's hand and Kenny looks a little unconfident, for like a second before he bounces back. "Sir," he says to my dad, "I'm Kenneth. It's nice to meet you. You have a lovely home." Kiss ass.

After my parents basically interrogate Kenny, his motives, and his plans for the future, _as if he were my boyfriend_ , we make it past the horrible creatures and to my room.

His eyes widen. "Wow," he says, entering. "This is nice." I watch him walk around and check out everything. All my Knick knacks, and movies, and sketches. This is gross. I do not like this. "This is really cool, Tweek," he tells me, staring at the ceiling. "You've really put thought into this, huh?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I just see stuff and think _that's cool_. It's more effort, I think," I say. "It looks good because I _didn't_ put thought into it," I add.

"Deep." He says, flopping into my bing bag chair. I feel like Kenny was a good choice for my 'fake friend' because I think we could just sit around and do nothing and he'd be fine with it. I also feel like we'd have a lot of deep conversations.

I take a seat at my desk. "Your parents are funny."

I snort, " _Funny_? You mean fucking bizarre."

"I just think they really care about you," he says.

I nod, "They're just... I don't know. They think I'm crazy but they don't _want_ to think I'm crazy. They don't know what to do or how to, 'help me'." I use air quotations.

He tilts his head back to look at me upside down. "What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Helping you, what does that involve?" he asks. His eyes remind me of the ocean and suddenly I have a great painting idea. I'll write it down for when he's gone.

I shrug, "I don't think there's anything wrong with me," I tell him. I sit at my desk and observe the blonde in front of me. He's got his eyes closed now and his head still tilted back. I wonder what other psychos do in their free time. There has to be someone out there that's weirder than I am. Right? I'm not that weird, honestly. Maybe everyone else is just super fucking boring.

"I don't either," Kenny says after a while. I blink off my daze from zoning out and try to figure out what he said. I bet Kenny has the same mindset that I do. Or probably, he just knows what my mindset is because he is a mind reader and so he can use that to know what I'd want him to say. I don't fucking trust anybody.

"You can draw," he says, picking a stray sketch from the ground. It was one I did of Craig. It's not detailed enough to know it's him though, and also it sucks so even if it were done you still wouldn't be able to tell. It's just a guy- who kind of looks like a potato. "It's Craig."

My heart stops. "Nah, I was just sketching." I tell him, surprisingly convincing. I really don't want Kenny to know this. I really don't want anyone to have anything against me. I really just want everyone to leave me alone. I'm best when I'm alone. It's how I function best.

Kenny glances back at me. My expression doesn't falter. I shrug, "As an artist, I need to be able to express myself in a way where people can interpret my art as they may." Kenny raises an eyebrow at me. What am I saying? Just keep talking, Tweek. I think it's working. "So, you see Craig because, maybe you're subconsciously thinking about him," I say. "But, Kyle might see Stan. Or Clyde might see Token." I continue in my sophisticated explanatory voice.

Kenny snorts, "First, Token is black with dreads and this boy does not have dreads. Second, Stan doesn't have braces _or_ freckles," he laughs at my expression. "That's cute," he says. Cute. Cute... _Cute_. What does cute mean? I pull the definition up on my phone. Attractive in a pretty or endearing way. Okay, _what_? I'm not pretty, nor endearing. "You have anymore?"

"No," I immediately lie.

Kenny reads it. He knows. He reaches for another stray sketch. "You should totally ask him to model for you," he says. "These look like him, but imagine how much it'd look like him if you had reference." He gathers a few more. I regret not tidying my room. What was I thinking? I wasn't. Damn. "You could do a portrait.

My throat closes. It's suicide, if I were to ask Craig to model for me. I could never. How dare Kenny even ask. Who knows what would happen if I did. I bet the sun would explode. Boom, everybody dies. All because the psychos got feisty. How about we all just do what we've been doing the past sixteen years? I scoff, "No way. I actually happen to like the sun. Fuck you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I find that hard to believe since you can read minds."

Kenny laughs again, "Once again, I'm lost. You really are crazy."

"You're crazier than me. Shut up." I fold my arms across my chest. It's only okay when I'm calling myself psycho. I absolutely hate it when other people call me it. Especially when I was just starting to like them. _Especially_ when they have no room to talk.

Kenny's visit consists of us chatting while I sketch, Kenny borderline flirting with my mother, and my parents trying their _very best_ to try to embarrass me. It makes me think because if Kenny had been a real friend I actually invited over to hang out, this is how they would act and it's like they don't want me to have friends.

Kenny leaves after eating and I am relieved. People take as much effort as I expected. Which is: too much for me. I'm not sure how much I can keep this up.

I continue to sketch my new Craig. This one's a nude. But his backs to the viewer so there's no dick. When I'm finished with the sketch I decide to continue, filling in the lines sloppily with water colors. It actually comes out really nice. I toss it with the rest of the Craig's on the floor. I'm bored and I can feel night ingressing my veins. This means I haven't taken a night stroll in a while. The moon beacons me. I'll head out after my parents are asleep.

I hop from my desk sudden surge of anxiety hitting me. I need to clean my room. It's a mess. There's sketches littering the floor everywhere and mugs with coffee rings that have been here since last week. I gather together all the papers, snatch a bag from my closet, shove them inside, and throw the back pack into the corner. I stack the cups and then head to the kitchen to drop them in the sink.

I decide the kitchen is filthy. I know my mother just cleaned it. I know. It's gross though. When's the last time someone cleaned out the fridge? What about the microwave? Toaster oven? Sink?

I grab the sponge from the sink. When's the last time we washed it? I gag, dropping it back. A little water splashes up. I turn on the facet and scrub my hands red. I throw on my mother's dish gloves, trusting that she washes her hands every time before using them because I watch her and I'd have to get this gene from _someone_. I grab the sponge, aprons, rags, and towels in the kitchen and head to the laundry room, tossing them in the washer.

When I'm back to the kitchen I clean what little dishes are left in the sink, dry them, and put away the dishes in the dish washer. I vigorously scrub the sink with bleach, along with the microwave, and the counters. I clean out the fridge completely and scrub it down before returning the food to the cooling unit. I sweep. I mop.

By the time I'm done it's one in the morning and I'm content. Perfect walking time. I go back to my room and fill the bag full of sketches with pencils, paper, and paints. I toss it on my shoulder and head back downstairs. I slip into my Chuck Taylor's and my heavy coat and click in the four digit code to our alarm system. It's my dad's birth year. It's actually not really smart if you think about it because it's not that hard to figure out if you knew him. Everyone in South Park knows everyone. I've kind of accepted fate though. One day we will be robbed. Damn.

So I just don't think about it. Fuck that, I think about it a lot. Like, every time I use the alarm and every time at night when I know I'm the only one up and I know that everyone in this town would be relieved to find me in a ditch. I am a danger to them because I'm _so_ crazy. Who knows what I'll do?

One time in middle school these kids were messing with me, not an unusual occurrence, and I snapped. I blacked out. The only thing I remember is waking up in the office. Everyone watching me with fearful, wide eyes. No one would come near me. No one would tell me what I did or what I said. The kid moved. It was the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. It's kind of worrying, knowing that I could do that. Lose myself. Forget part of my life. Do things without controlling it. But it hasn't happened since. I think, at least.

I get chills.

The air is cold and thin. I can see my breath. I should have brought a scarf but I won't die. I wonder if Craig still swims in Stark's at night. I never go over there when I walk. It's too far from my house. Actually, let's be real, nothing in South Park is _too far_ from anything. But, in that perspective it's far. I wonder if he swims in this weather. Now that would make him bat-shit insane. That's suicide. But it could give you a rush.

I should try that.

Sometimes, I pluck the Testaburger's tulips from their garden. I like to send them adrift in Stark's. Wendy's mother gets absolutely furious and no one can figure out who's doing it. I don't do it often enough for them to put up cameras or anything but when I do it I usually take all of them, leaving little dead stems. I wish I could see her face when she finally sees what's become of her flowers.

I head in the direction of their house. I know it's winter so Stark's is probably frozen over by now but I have my paints and I'm feeling inspired. I'm just gonna paint flowers, not sketch. I need color or something.

My shoe slips on ice and I stumble before barely catching myself. I let out a sigh. I can't see. I hear a noise behind me and my heart starts to race. I really don't fancy dying here right now. I should just go home. This walk was a bad idea when I know I'm on the verge of a panic attack.

God, I hate those.

And, God, I hate Eric Fucking Cartman for sticking his fucking dirty ass sausage finger in my ear. His spit. His saliva. In my ear, in my brain. What if he has aids? He had aids before! What if they never actually left? What if he's just immune and now I'm fucked?! I'm gonna die.

I take a deep breath. It's useless because the air is cold and thin and I can't breathe in it. If I were home, I could start a fire and roast marshmallows but instead I'm out here, walking to Wendy's house to paint fucking flowers. But I really want to fucking paint some tulips, dammit!

I probably heard nothing. I'm too much of a pussy to actually look. I'd rather not know if there's a murderer with a chainsaw behind me about to kill me. I'd rather just die. Because if I see him I'll run and then probably fall and, I don't know, I just think it'd be easier to just put me out of my misery. But there isn't anyone behind me.

I trek on.

I decide once I'm at Wendy's, I'm not gonna pick these flowers. I'm just gonna paint. I will let them live another day. I walk past the side of the house and onto the back porch. Inside the screen area there are little pots with flowers. I bet she'll take them in soon or something. I don't know how plants work.

I sit, crisscross on the wooden floor and start a painting in my sketch book of the flowers in their pots, lined up, not particularly straight. Some are out of line and off to the side a bit but, damn if my OCD isn't completely fucking opposite. It's perfect to me.

I use cool colors. Greys and blues. Because the only lighting I have is the moon but, still it seems too perfect. My painting is a little more abstract than I was expecting but still I feel some sort of calming sensation when it's finished and I know it's now four in the morning. The sun comes up around five thirty. I should head back. I wish I brought my scooter, but I didn't.

The door to the house opens and I yelp, scrambling to my feet preparing to run. "I knew it," Wendy states. She's in a tank top and some shorts. "I knew it was you, picking the flowers," she continues. She snorts, "My mom gets so pissed at you, you know? Don't worry, I'm not telling her." The way Wendy says this is funny to me because it's like she thinks she's breaking a huge rule by not allowing her mother this information.

I blink at the dark haired girl. She looks at the sketchbook in my hands. "Whoa, that's amazing," Wendy points at my painting. I look at it. "Sorry if I scared you," she says, smiling.

"I'm fine," I say. Wendy nods and sits on the bench in her porch. I decide it's because she wants me to sit next to her so I do. "So, uhm, how are things going…?"

Wendy glances at me just for a moment before shrugging again. "I don't think I really like anyone I know," she says thoughtfully. "No offense," she adds but there was none anyway. "I just… I don't fucking like people, dammit!" Wendy lets out a sigh.

I feel so close to this girl right now. I want her to continue but she looks done so I urge her, "Is this about Stan or Bebe?" I assume they were the only two she actually cared about to begin with.

Wendy shakes her head. "Fuck," she says, looking outside through the screen.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"No," she turns to me. "It's not your fault he's an ass. It's not your fault I complain too much or that I'm 'indecisive'," Wendy says with air quotations. "People just change but then why would I keep making friends that eventually aren't gonna want to be my friends anymore?- Fuck!" I watch her, fascinated. This is beautiful. Who'd have thought that someone like Wendy would have these problems or react this way? I think she's completely breaking down- I mean she's hanging out with me!

"Can I…" She looks up at me. I look away and bite my cheek. "You can say no but can I paint you?"

Wendy thinks this over and nods, "I guess. Now?"

"Later. It's late- early… I should get going."

"Okay," she says. I stand and grab the door. "I'll see you later, Tweek."

I turn back to look at her. I just nod with a hum of acknowledgement. This is still all so weird to me.

The walk back is almost torturous. Winter here is hell. I hate the cold. It's numbing. I'm always numb. I like to feel. I like warm and tingly. I light bright and sunny. I like ice cream and sweating when I'm riding my scooter down a big hill. The thought helps me get home.

When I do get back inside I toss my bag on the table and sound the alarm again, starting the coffee maker, and heading to my room to prepare for the sunrise.

I've decided I want to paint more things on my walls. Like a palm tree and suns. So it's always warm there and I can think of Florida or Hawaii.

I need more paint.

* * *

 _Some details like Tweek's room is similar to my other story Divine and Acquiescent. I wrote two chapters for this and decided I hated it and then wrote that and now I like this one again so I'm gonna continue it. You guys should really listen to the chapter tracks with the chapter, I feel like it just gives it more ...(wait for it) Atmosphere! XD I'm so fucking dumb. Review and Give me love- or hate, I'll take whatever..._


	3. Climb a Latter if there's a Wall

**Chapter Track: Falling For You by Colbie Caillat**

Craig Tucker got a lip piercing- two actually. He got spider bites to the left of his mouth. They are absolutely delectable. Today in the morning, while I was drooling, Clyde, who towers over Craig by, not much, but at least two inches, snatched the niorette's hat off, revealing the short tussles of shiny black, protruding from the boy's head. His hair was wild, probably due to the hat he always wears. It stuck up everywhere except the very front, which laid idle on his forehead.

Craig didn't even flinch. He simply kicked the brunette in the groin, snatched his hat back, and after his middle finger made a nice appearance he took off to, I'd assume, the smoker's alley. Token shoved Clyde with his shoulder, scoldingly. Clyde shrugged with a laugh.

After Craig leaves I lose interest in the group. I zone out listening to music and staring into my locker. I didn't notice the bell rang and when I did, everyone was already basically filed out of the hallway. I shoved a book in my bag and slammed my locker shut, turning and rushing down the hall. Though, rounding my first corner I slammed into someone. It was at that moment I realized I forgot to zip my back after putting my book in. Papers fly out all over the floor.

This isn't my book bag. This isn't my book bag. My bag was down stairs. I grabbed my sketches bag.

And now, Craig is all over the floor. He stares at me with disappointment and rage and I can't even argue with him. _'Oh, Tweek_ ,' he says, _'what have you done?_ ' And I have no reply for him except my gapping mouth and horrified expression.

Clyde, who I've stumbled into is staring at the mess blankly, brows furrowed. I wonder if I had paid attention and noticed he had left- If I had noticed, I wonder if this could have played out differently.

I drop to my knees, collecting the papers into a pile, quickly. One's too far away but just at Clyde's feet. He stoops to pick it up and I know if I had a gun I'd have shot him. And that's why I'm the psycho. Well, it's that or the fact that I have all these fucking sketches of Craig. Oh, God.

Clyde examines the picture and I want to shoot _myself_ now. Why, Tweek? Why didn't you just take your bag to your room? Why didn't you just leave the papers on the floor? Why do you have to be so weird? I watch him from the floor.

The late bell rings and echoes through the halls. He looks down at me, still confused. He opens his mouth but closes it. I stack the sketches into a pile and shove them back into my back, zipping it, roughly, standing to be eye level with the brunette before me.

He hands me my drawing and I glance down at it with a clenched jaw. I swallow. It's the nude. It's my water color nude. It doesn't look nearly as good as it did last night. "You're, uh, really good," Clyde says.

I nod with a low, "Thank you." I speak so soft, I basically mouthed the words.

"Is that supposed to be…" Clyde points a lazy finger towards the paper in my hands, "Craig?"

"Who?" I ask, dumbly. In my head I cringe at the response.

Clyde snorts. "You know, black hair, blue hat, braces, asshole... Anything ringing a bell?"

"I mean, I know who Craig is but, this isn't him," I assure the brunette. Shit, what was it I told Kenny? Something about interpretation and- fuck! Dick!

"You sure?" he asks. "They all looked like the same person and I don't know many other kids in South Park with black hair, blue eyes, and none with braces to top."

I blink, "Well, maybe it isn't a real person. I made him up."

"Right," Clyde says with a nod. "You're a really bad liar."

"Braces are pretty common," I shrug. I've decided I _am_ a terrible liar. I already knew this. "Why do you have to ask so many freaking questions?" Clyde blinks at me and I stare at him with wide eyes. I'm being a dick. And Clyde's a fucking hunk! He'd never talk to me and the only instance he'd ever talk to me happens and I'm a dick! "I have to get to class."

He nods, "Yeah, me too... Tweek, right?"

He knew my name. I nod, "Yeah." But, why would knowing my name matter to him? He'd probably need my name if he were gonna tell Craig and Token about this incident.

"I'll see you around," he walks past me. I watch him until he's gone into a classroom. He'll see me around? I mean, we always have. We've lived in the same small town our whole lives. Why is he pointing it out though? Does he mean that the next time he does see me around he'll acknowledge me? He better not. I swear to hell, he better not. What does that mean? Will he tell Craig? I said it wasn't him but, fuck. It's so obviously him. It's him and now Clyde knows about my huge ass boner for him.

Even if he doesn't, that was weird. It was so weird. He'll tell Craig about his weird experience and Craig will tell Clyde about his. They'll exchange stories about how I'm a freak.

I stare at the drawing in my hands, beginning to tremble. I don't even know why I'm upset. I couldn't have thought there was a chance for me and Craig. I'm realistic. I know there isn't. He isn't gay. No one in South Park is. But, thinking about Craig calling me a freak, like I know he will twists up my insides in a bad way. Clyde will tell him and this is weird. _I'm_ weird. I'm a freak.- but, why? Why do people have to say it? Why does it have to be like this? Why can't everyone just be like me and then it would just be normal!

"UGH!" I tear the painting apart. First, down the middle, and then in half. I rip the pieces up until their too small and watch them slowly dance to the ground. My chest heaves and my eyes water.

I wish I weren't so alone.

Sometimes, I just want _someone_. I don't know. Someone who's love isn't obligated. Someone who doesn't care about how we look or isn't worried I might fuck up and get sent away. Someone who doesn't think I'm weird. They would listen to me. Actually _hear_ me. Consider me. Treat me like a person. Not like I'm psycho because I know I'm not.

No matter what I say, I'm not crazy.

No matter what _they_ say, I'm not crazy.

I'm broken. I'm only like this because of how they treated me. I wipe my face clean and then the tears are gone. I could be more upset now about my painting being torn up and gone forever though. It _was_ good. I shouldn't have done that. But, it happens. There will be other Craig's to draw, I suppose.

 **o.o.o.o.o**

This is the fourth time I've caught Clyde staring at me. I have half a mind to throw a stapler at him. Then maybe, he'll remember that I'm Tweek Tweak and I'm usually off my meds. Ugh, fuck those meds. I don't think he's told Craig yet and it's sixth period. Is that good? Or maybe he's waiting until they go home so he can relay the story to Craig and Token over some beer or something. Meanwhile, I'll be at home, probably high, probably painting, and it will probably be Craig on my paper.

He has such nice features.

I finish my quiz and stand, leaving it on my desk. I can't stay in here with Clyde staring at me like a fucking creep. There's still half an hour left in class. I think I'll go wander.

So now, Kenny knows and Clyde knows. The question is what do they know? Because, _I_ don't even know, man! I bet Kenny knows, but I doubt he'd tell me because that's the type of person he is. He'd be like, ' _Tweek, you must find the answers yourself'_. Blah.

I stop walking. The door to the roof is open. Not open wide or anything but there's a rock lodged into it, keeping it just barely cracked. Something a teacher or another student wouldn't notice. But, I noticed because I notice things when I wander and also it's been a dream of mine to find the roof access door unlocked. I've always wanted to go up there.

I creep inside and let it shut, quietly behind me. It hits the rock. The room's dark despite the light that seeps through the ajar door. The room seems to be for electrical stuff but in the far corner I see a ladder. I climb up and push open the heavy door with one hand, using my other to keep me from falling.

The sun blinds me at first but I can't hold back my smile. And once I'm outside and on the roof I'm full-blown grinning. First, I run laps- about two, before I become exhausted, and then I stand near the edge, pretending I'm Rose and Jack's behind me and we're at the tip of the titanic. Love is coursing through our veins along with the adrenaline from being so close to something that could be potentially dangerous. Of course I'm at least five feet away from the ledge. I'm scared of heights, if you can believe it.

I'm about to start doing cartwheels but when I turn around a figure standing next to the entrance snatches my attention. I scream and cover my mouth. I could scream again though at whom it is.

There is nowhere for me to run up here.

Craig stares at me with icy blue eyes. He's holding a jar. I wonder if he ever blinks. He's got nice eyelashes. They're dark. His expression remains the same. Blank. I twitch, like a deer in headlights, scared and startled. Happy to be alive but still scared for my life.

"You're not allowed up here," his voice is even and low, but loud. I'm impressed. Especially when my voice comes out like a twelve year old going through puberty.

"Neither are you." I counter, peering through fingers.

His gaze doesn't break, "You're not _supposed_ to be up here."

"And you are?" I ask. My heart is pounding. This could be scarier than standing on the ledge. He might eat me. Or vice versa... Wink, wink.

His brows slant. He's mad. He flicks me off. "None of your fucking business," he spits. "Just get the fuck out of here."

I don't know why I'm being so defiant. I guess because I've always wanted to come up here so it'll take some work to get me to leave. And, maybe I wanna talk to Craig for a bit longer. Try again, Tucker. "Why are you up here? Why don't _you_ leave?"

"Because," he growls. "I was here first!"

"Actually-"

"Shut the fuck up, I come up here every day," he informs me. "I put the rock in the door, fucking retard."

No need for harsh words. Wait- "Are those pickles?" I ask, referring the jar in his hands.

His clutch tightens and he holds it closer to his chest. "None of your business," he repeats. "Why don't you go set a fire or some shit?"

"Because I'm scared of fire, you ass crack."

"Of course," he shakes his head. "Then go ride your scooter into a lake."

"Fuck you." I start to storm past him. "You're the one eating pickles on the roof, you freak." I start down the ladder but my left foot misses the first bar and instead I go falling. My right foot gets snagged on the bar it did manage to hit and then I'm staring up, through the hole and at the clouds. Storm clouds.

My head hurts. I think I'm dying. Probably not. I will pass out pretty soon though. Ugh, sucks, no one's gonna help me even if they find me. They'll probably draw a dick on my cheek.

The cloud fades to black but then it's back again. It fades out and then I hear a mumble. When it fades back into vision, Craig is peeking from the ceiling. He looks down at me with no expression. It fades to black, this time I think for longer because when I see again he's next to me on his phone. "Fuck." He swears. It fades out.

Next time I wake to Craig slapping my cheek lightly. "C'mon," he says, "wake up." When my eyes open he stares into them. His eyes pierce me like blades. It almost physically hurts- his beauty, that is. "Stay awake," he commands. I blink at him, my head drifting and my eyelids growing heavy. "No!" he grabs my face, "Stay up!" He pulls his phone out and taps something on the screen. He hands it to me. "Do this. Doesn't matter if you get it wrong."

His screen stares brightly at me with numbers. An equation. I start to solve it in my head while Craig grabs my phone and starts dialing a number. I can hear it ring but then go back to the math problems. It varies extremely.

"Toke, I need a favor."

I chuckle at a specifically hard problem and Craig glances at me. "The limit does not exist," I relay my thoughts to him. "The limit does not exist!" I laugh. That was fucking funny. Craig has no sense of humor.

"Okay..." he mutters, "I need to borrow your car." He continues his phone conversation. "Possibly the hospital but probably just your house," he looks at me, questionably. I don't want to go to the hospital. That's the type of shit that _will_ get me sent away.

More problems. Why can't I be stacking blocks or something? I know this is to keep me stimulated or something. I think the fall was worse than I first anticipated. Maybe I _will_ die... I think I'm okay with that, actually. I don't want to go to a hospital. I whine.

"No, I'm fine," Craig tells the phone. "I'll explain everything later, Toke, just please meet me by the bathroom in building four, second floor so I can get your keys?"

I grunt, displeased with another impossible question. I toss the phone away from me. It hits the floor with a thunk. "Motherfucking queer," Craig starts grinding his teeth. "Not you, Toke. I'll see you in a bit," he hangs up and throws my phone at the wall. But I have an android and he has an iPhone so the damage is probably equal, I'd assume.

"My phone!" I cry. Craig clamps a cold hand over my mouth. I stare at him until he moves it. "What are you doing?"

"Being nicer than I've ever been in my life. Don't take it for granted," he says. He picks his phone up and checks the damage. There is none. He puts it in his pocket. "I'll be right back. Do something to stay awake."

"Why?"

He's already gone. Not why do I have to keep busy, why is Craig being nice to me? Nicer than he's ever been in his life to boot. Amazing. He's amazing up close. And he's saving my life! Psh, he's not doing anything any decent person wouldn't have done.

But, still...

I accidentally black out again. I forgot Craig didn't want me to. Fuck, I forgot Craig existed. But he woke me up by sticking my head in the boys bathroom sink. If I weren't so dizzy and lightheaded I'd probably throw up.

I can't believe he carried me all the way the way here by himself. I'm taller than him, but I'm skinnier too. And I think Craig's actually into psychical activities. Whereas I'm too devoted to the couch to leave it alone for more than an hour at a time. And when I'm not with her I'm usually painting. And when I paint, I sit on the floor.

Since I'm awake Craig drops me. It should have been fine and dainty but as soon as my weight hits my feet, there's a snap in my right ankle. I cry out and drop to my knees. "Are you fucking serious?" Craig says but his tone is even and unconcerned, as his face is. "You're ankle too?" I don't answer. I'm convinced he'll leave me. I've become too much work and to think, I was gonna get to be alone with Craig. True, I am delusional and in pain right now but it still would have been magical. Now, he's through being nice and I'm on my own. I'm okay with dying on the school bathroom floor. Not ideal but if I'm gonna die, I'd like to be in a good place so I can pass on without difficulty. "Alright... uhm," I glance up and catch Craig's stare. "You're gonna have to get on my back," he says. I blink at him. "Unless you can walk."

"Just leave me here," I tell him, drooping even more. "No one would care." I would care but Craig sure as hell wouldn't. If I'm lucky Kenny might find me and save me. Maybe even Wendy. I could drag myself into the hall. She would help, if she saw me. Or maybe not since she's turning over a new leaf.

Craig groans, "Shut up or I might." He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet again. "Hurry up. I don't want someone to see us." He sounds like my mom when I'm having an episode and she comes to get me. Craig turns so his back faces me. I slump against him. He quickly grabs my legs and hauls me up. He adjusts and then he carries me out of the bathroom and down the hall.

I'm fading again, but then I hear Craig talking. "Hey," he says. "Hey!" his head turns slightly. It's so close to me. "Stay awake. What's your birthday?"

"June twenty-fourth," I say.

"So, like, what sign is that?" he asks.

"I'm a Cancer," I tell him.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Green."

We're going down stairs. "Um, who are your parents?"

"Richard and Sherry Tweak."

"What do they do for a living?"

"They own a coffee shop. It was taken over by Harbuck's until my dad reopened it last November," I tell him.

"Okay, where do you live?"

"1211 Laynealia drive," I say. "Are you gonna rob us? It wouldn't be hard. The alarm code is my dad's birthday year. It's really stupid." I'm rambling, but I think that's what Craig wanted.

He scoffs, "I'm not gonna fucking rob you," he tells me. "What do you like to do during your free time?"

I chuckle, "Are we on a date?"

Craig sighs, "Yes, we're on a date. What do you want to know about me?"

"Are you a psycho kid too?"

"A _what_?"

"You eat pickles on the roof instead of going to class, of course you are."

"Okay..."

"When is your birthday?" I ask, leaning my face into his shoulder. Craig smells like cigarettes, old cologne, testosterone, and stress. But his hair smells like apples.

"December twenty-ninth." Capricorn.

"How old are you turning?"

"Seventeen."

"Craig, you're young."

"Fuck you," he shifts, pushing me back up onto his back. "You're fat," he shoots back.

"Fuck you," I mumble into his shoulder blade. "You're a fucking liar." He takes the door in the stairway that leads outside. Probably so we won't get caught. "Okay, okay, I have one." I say, "Where are we going?"

"Depends," Craig says. "Are you going to fall into a coma?"

I hum in thought. "I don't think I'm really in a coma-type of mood." I tell him. "But, I think my ankle is in a broken-type of mood."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he says. "I don't think it's broken though. Just sprained maybe."

"That's too easy for me."

"We'll just go to Token's and I'll wrap it."

"This is weird," I say, lifting my head. "Just take me home. My mom is certified in first-aid."

"Yeah, I bet. She's had years of practice," he says. "I have to unlock the car. Are you gonna be able to get in?"

"Get off me." I answer by shoving myself away from him. I'm careful not to put any weight on my foot. But, the pain makes it easier to stay awake. It reminds me that I'm alive.

"A 'thank you' would be nice."

I get in the passenger seat of Token's red Cadillac. I've never been inside but I've had fantasies. Craig gets in and starts the car. "Take me home," I tell him.

"God, you're pushy. And, fuck off; we're going to Token's."

"Why?" I groan. "I want to sleep." I want to smoke and paint. Fuck.

Craig pulls out of the parking lot. "Exactly," he says, "You're gonna think I'm crazy," he says. Fucking stupid ass, I already _know_ you're crazy. "But, for some reason I don't trust you to take care of yourself." He says in a sarcastic tone. The only other tone from monotonous I've heard him use.

" _Some reason_ ," I repeat. "You act like you've known me long enough for an occurrence where I've shown that I don't take care of myself."

"You wanted me to leave you to die on the boys' bathroom floor with a concussion and a sprained ankle." He says.

I scoff, "I wouldn't have _died_."- Probably- "I'm just used to people leaving me alone. You won't leave me alone."

"You think it's been my dream to carry the psycho kid down a flight of stairs on my back and take him home because he was a retard and fucking hurt himself? No, and maybe I should have left you since you don't know how to be fucking grateful," he retorts. "Don't act like a fucking victim. I could have left you but instead, I'm losing my education for your dumbass."

I drop my head against the leather rest. "I'm going to sleep," I tell him.

"Better fucking not or I'll drop you on the side of the road. I swear to fucking God."

"Seriously, though, I'm tired. I haven't had coffee since this morning."

"It's still morning," Craig points out.

"Stop at Harbuck's."

"You got money or something?"

"Right, go to Token's then. I bet he has some Caribbean type shit or- Or! I bet he has Brazilian coffee." I smile, imagining the rich smelling beans and the creamy, savory-

"You get turned on by coffee," Craig deadpans.

"Do not." I'll never admit it out loud but if I ever came home to a naked Craig, bathing in coffee I would never leave my house.

"You're a certified nut-case."

"You were eating pickles on the roof. I like coffee." I hold my hands up, weighing the two scenarios. "Let's stop calling people names, huh?"

"Fine, whatever, but it's just pickles. They're fucking good."

"They're kind of gross," I correct him. "And I could use the same argument for coffee." He shakes his head. "How are you gonna wrap my ankle? What'd you know about sprained ankles?"

"I have a little sister who plays soccer," he says. "And she sucks at it," he adds.

I snort. Craig's kind of funny in a my-voice-never-changes-and-I-have-no-expressions way.

We pull up to the Black's mansion with two, short black outs. Craig drags me from the car and inside. "Aren't his parents' home? Why are we at _Token's_ place anyways?" My voice is quiet and slurred as if I were drunk when really I just can't think or keep my eyes open.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod, "I'm fine. I hit my head _all_ the time." I wave him off.

"Token's parents are always working. You'd know if they were home," he tells me, taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. This, I can keep my eyes open for. "And, I like his house better so I basically use it as my own. He doesn't seem to care. I'll go get some ice," Craig walks off into another room.

I drop myself onto the couch and check out my ankle. It's swollen and my head is pounding in sync with my heartbeat. It's loud in my ears. I lean back against the couch. "Yeah, I'm gonna be fine..." I tell myself. It can't be worse than that time I fell off the roof. Or, maybe, it's worse _because_ I fell off the roof and then this happened too.

"Here," Craig tosses me two ice packs. "One for your head," he explains.

I take my shoe off to put the ice on but Craig kneels in front of me. I stop to stare at him, "What're you..." He grabs my foot gently and begins to turn it experimentally. I'm imagining Craig dressed as Prince Charming and I'm Cinderella and he's about to try the glass slipper on me. I wince at sharp pain from him turning too far and the fantasy fades. Craig stops.

He pulls out some gauze. I watch him expertly wrap my ankle, tightly. I usually hurt myself, but never do I actually treat my wounds. I imagine my body is pretty fucked up from all the damage I've caused it.

Craig snaps in my face. "How do you feel?"

I stare at him with wide, shocked eyes. "Don't you _ever_ fucking do that again," I mumble. "Fine. Can I go home now?"

"No, it was no trouble. You're welcome, Tweek."

My heart skips. He said my name. It was terribly sarcastic but he said it. He knows it. _Everyone knows it. You're the psycho._ But he said it to me in such a Charming Craig way.

"What now? You have a fever too?"

I fold my arms over my chest. "What?" This is such an uncomfortable situation. I want to go home so badly.

"Your face," He says. "It's red. Are you over heating? Did hitting your head break something mentally? Or were you already too fucked up and it just fixed shit?"

"Can I go now?" I repeat, joy from him saying my name drained from me along with my energy and realizing that my fucking head is killing. All I want to do is lay down and go to sleep. I know you think I'm an idiot but I swear it'll make everything better. Plus, I'm never this tired.

Is that a sign?

"If I take you home, you'll go to sleep." He says.

I nod, "Yeah and I never sleep so, it'd be in our best interest."

"Fuck that," Craig says. "I already got this far. If I let you die now, it'd all have been for nothing."

"Who cares?" I throw my head back against the couch and place the ice on my forehead. "Let me go to sleep."

"How can you say that? You know you hit your head, right? And that it's a miracle it's not busted all the way open and you aren't bleeding out on the floor back at school? You know that you have a concussion and if you go to sleep bad things could happen?"

I shrug, "I won't die." I think I won't. "If I fall into a coma, no one will really notice. They'll probably just think I'm catching up on my sleep." Because I never do that. "They'll be happy for me. Maybe it's for the best. Plus, I don't know. I want to go home and go to sleep."

"I'm gonna make you some coffee." Craig stands.

No, not coffee! My weakness! Oh, Craig, you win this time. Dammit! Whatever. I brush the hair in my face back with my hand and sigh. So, I don't think Clyde told Craig about this morning. Otherwise, this wouldn't even be happening. Craig would've been filled with joy to know I fell and then he would've left me to my own device. Which would have been nothing. I would've sat there and died.

 _I wouldn't have died._

Drawing Craig doesn't necessarily mean that I like him. Clyde can't just assume that. I could possibly convince him that I draw people like that all the time. And I don't think Clyde's very smart. Maybe, after enough convincing, he'd believe me... And Kenny just knows. There's nothing I can do about that but I doubt he gives a fuck. I bet he knows things about everyone. Weird shit.

I decide to assist the niorette. He couldn't know anything about coffee and I will not let him ruin my special Token Coffee. I limp myself into the kitchen.

Craig's standing at the counter, staring at the brewing coffee machine. "Are you waiting for it to grow legs and run away?" I ask.

He doesn't jump or even look startled. He only half-glances back at me. "No," He says. Craig's not much shorter than me but I notice, as I come behind him, it's just enough for me to rest my head on his. I feel like this is fate, as it's the perfect couple pose. "You're feeling better?"

I'm just used to hitting my head and not really giving a fuck so I nod. "I told you I was fine."

"Yeah, but you're a fucking liar."

The coffee machines beeps. "Where does Token keep the coffee?"

"I don't need help."

"Okay, but that wasn't the question."

Craig glares at me, "Go back to the living room."

"You go back to the living room. You don't know the first thing about making coffee."

"Go back home."

"Go crawl back up your mom's vagina."

Craig's nose crinkles in disgust, "Sick, dude."

I shrug, "You started a war you couldn't win."

He flicks me off. "Then make your own damn coffee."

"Thank you." I search the cabinets. When I find the coffee I'm only mildly disappointed. My expectations were irrational, so when I come upon just high quality coffee, I don't feel impressed. They could have whatever they'd like, yet they settle for exceptional. How unpleasant. Whatever. At least I get coffee.

"Token and Clyde are coming."

"Huh?" I turn to Craig.

His eyes lift from his phone. "Toke and Clyde are coming," he repeats. They're skipping seventh. Token's probably suspicious."

"Of what?" What will Clyde think when he sees me here? "Do they know I'm here?"

"No, but calm down. It's not a big deal."

He'll think somethings been going on between us. He'll think Craig is gay. "I should go."

"Tweek, fuck, if you don't calm down-"

"I can't. I have to go. Why am I even here? I said I was fine. Now, I actually am fine. I should just go. I'm bothering you and I know I'm bothering you so don't fucking lie-"

"Hey,"

"You did so much that you didn't have to. Anyone else would have left me there. You brought me here and now Token's gonna come back and I feel like I'm intruding. It's weird. It's _really_ weird-"

" _Hey_ ,"

"They're gonna think it's weird. I don't wanna cause you any problems. It'd just be easier this way. Just take me home. No, I'll walk. It's fine. I don't want you taking Token's car-"

Craig grabs my arm, "Would you shut the fuck up? No one is gonna care. Just _breathe_ , dude, shit," he says. "Calm down. Drink your coffee."

I stare at Craig's hand until he unravels it from me with a furrowed brow. "Sorry," he apologizes.

"No, I'm sorry." It's quiet. "Why do you want me to stay so bad?"

"I don't want you to stay badly!" Craig immediately snaps at me with clenched fists. "I'm just trying to help you," he rephrases with a lighter tone. "Appreciate it."

"I don't know how. No one's ever helped me before."

"Well, I guess I've never really helped anyone either..."

"So, why help me? You could have left me. It would have been fine- better- _normal_."

"Normal." He mumbles. "Why are you so concerned about it? Just appreciated it, okay? Or leave."

"I've been trying to leave this whole time!"

"Fine, fucking forget it! Go home! Leave the coffee." He storms out of the kitchen.

I follow, mug in hand. "What's with you?"

"I told you to leave."

"You want me to fly? We're out of town."

"You said you'd walk a minute ago." He says. I sip from my cup and watch Craig. He sits on the couch. "You're right. I'm done helping people. Go home." He says.

"Thank you." I tell him. "Thank you for helping me."

"Whatever."

The front door opens. Clyde and Token walk in. I glance at Craig. He's not looking up. I glance at the door. They're staring. I open my mouth to say something but decide it's better just to let them talk first.

Clyde doesn't take his eyes off of me but Token's first to speak. "Hey, man,"

"Uhm, hey,"

Clyde starts to set his things down and Token hangs his jacket on the coat rack. Token says, "So, this is what you were talking about."

Craig nods, "He fell. I felt bad."

"Whoa, you _felt_?!" Clyde gasps. "Craig, I'm so happy for you!" Craig flicks him off. "That's weird though. Even if you felt bad, I wouldn't imagine you taking him home and aiding his wounds. How cute."

"Clyde," Token says to the brunette in a warning tone. Clyde just shrugs. "Well, I hope you feel better," Token says to me.

"Yeah, I was just leaving. Thanks though..." I turn to Craig. He's still not looking up. I glance at Clyde. He's still staring at me. He definitely thinks something happened and I know as soon as I'm gone he's gonna tell Craig.

"I'll give you a ride," Token offers.

I quickly shake my head, "I'm fine, man."

"Is your mom gonna pick you up?"

I look in a corner, "No, but, it's fine. I can walk."

"Dude, that's like an hour," Clyde points out. God, Clyde, how do you know just what to say to make me wanna punch you in the face?

"I'll drive you. It'll take five minutes," Token grabs his coat again.

"I'll make some tortillas while you're gone," Clyde tells him with a thumbs up. "And take care of the baby," he points the thumb towards Craig, still on the couch, still not saying anything. He sighs deeply at Clyde. Clyde sticks his tongue out at him, "Yeah, whatever, you love tortillas!"

Token and I start out to his car after he says his goodbyes. I talked to Craig and he wrapped my ankle. He cared for me. It was almost like he cared _about_ me. That, _someone_ cared about me. And they didn't even have to. It was a lovely surprise, but the result was terrible.

"Did something happen before we walked in? I hate when he gets like that," Token says after we're down the hill that leads to his house, driving past the other rich peoples' houses.

"No- well, maybe? I didn't mean to," I hold onto the seatbelt, nervously. If Token decided to, he could just kill me, but that's just my paranoia talking, hopefully.

Token taps the steering wheel, waiting for a light. "Yeah, he's really..." he looks at me, "he has a hard time figuring out what he wants, I guess and he doesn't really have control. He can't really accept help but he's actually kind of sweet, if you get to know him." Token looks like he's having trouble finding the right words but I'm listening to everything. I want to know even the bad things about Craig.

I blew it with Craig. I'd rather that never have happened and lose everything good about that and still have my imagination and hope that maybe he might like me because he doesn't know me.

But, I should have known. It's better not to get my hopes up. I should go home and redo that painting though. It was nice. It can wrap up my Craig Tucker phase. This time I'll add the piercings.

* * *

 _You guys get it? The song I mean. It's literal. Tweek fell for Craig XD I'm so fucking corny, I can't. Yo, I can't have 7 follows but no reviews. Let's start conversations in this bitch!_

… _I'm very lonely._


	4. Marble Eyes

**Chapter Track: It's In Her Eyes by Manicanparty**

I haven't seen Craig. Aside from in the morning when he's at his locker with Clyde and Token. I don't dare to even steal a glance. He's never where he used to be when I would see him before. I didn't stare I just... looked. Every day. It's concerning, in a way because has he known the whole time? Or maybe he only noticed and after _that day._ He put the pieces together.

I constantly find myself in the smoker's alley. He's never there either. I was scared to check the roof at first but one day when I was feeling courageous I went to the door but it was locked anyways.

I'm in a slump now from Crush Withdrawal. I need my daily dose of Craig. Even though I never talked to him, seeing him throughout the day helped me get through life. Catching a glimpse of his braces or little strands of hair slipping from his hat- _oh_ , and when he wearrs those jeans with the rip. Craig Tucker is so fucking awkwardly beautiful. He's perfect for me because I'm not perfect. But, I'm not ugly and people would agree that with some work I could even be considered hot, but I don't strive for that. I wear thrift store clothes and lack hair maintenance. I don't like people, I'd rather not attract them, I guess.

But, Craig is so- _mmm_ \- indescribable. I just want to hold him down, strip him, and be inside of him. I drop my head back against the brick building, diminishing the thoughts before I get too worked up.

I'm smoking but it's not a cigarette.

I need to clear my mind- or maybe, I need to cloud it up. Craig's all I'm able to think about. Ever since _that day_ , my crush has gotten so worse. Everything I said and did makes me cringe with embarrassment. I can't believe I fell in the first place. I'm better, by the way.

"Hey, Twitch,"

I nose crinkles. I hate that word. I hate that nick name. I hate high school and South Park. One day I'll move to a city and when I get sick of that life, which I'm sure I will, not long after I get there, I'll move somewhere quiet and pretty, with someone beautiful and who gets me and we'll only have each other but that's all we'll ever need.

I was expecting a Cartman so I'm surprised to find a Donovan instead. I pluck the blunt from my lips, though, I remain silent. I just watch him above me with foggy eyes and my mouth parted slightly.

Why is Clyde here? He doesn't smoke. I know because he does sports and football season ended recently. I blink at him for a while. It seems like an hour passes while I stare at him. The hair on the very top of his head blows with the wind and I can see his freckles from here. His brow furrowed, in desperate need of a waxing. I could help him out but I won't. The clouds in the sky behind him move slowly, dropping pellets of snow on their way to wherever they're cloud journey takes them. "Donovan," I say, taking another long drag from the wrapped weed between my fingers.

Clyde doesn't look impressed. "Burnout," he accuses. I don't acknowledge him anymore, turning my head back to the sky, allowing snow to land on my face and collect because he's right and I couldn't care less. He lets out a deep sigh, "What did you do to him?"

I open my eyes again and glance at Clyde. "Who?"

"Don't play dumb, blonde. You know _who_!" Clyde's face couldn't be more repulsed. I'm eating it up. I think he needs something from me. He doesn't want to be civil but if he really wants it, he's gonna have to at least pretend to be. I don't like people. "Craig," he spits out. "Craig, _okay_?" he shakes his head. "He's weird now. Like, out of it or something. Ever since you came over. I know you have a bone for him," Clyde says, eyeing me. I can see my breath in the cold air or maybe it's just smoke. Amazing. "What did you do to him before we showed up? Or after? In between, I don't fucking care just tell me if you fucked with him."

"Define 'fucked with him'."

Clyde rolls his eyes, "Forget it." He starts to leave but I stop him.

"Wait, okay," I push myself to my feet, using the wall to gain leverage. "All he did was wrap my ankle. See," I kick the foot forward, showing him the gauze revealing from between my jeans and shoe. "I fell and then, kind of, blacked out. Craig took me to Token's and gave me ice. That's it. Then you guys showed up."

"You didn't talk about anything?" Clyde asks, skeptically.

I shrug, "We talked about stuff to keep me awake but I don't really remember it anymore."

"And you don't deny your boner?"

"Uhm, I mean, he's attractive but I wouldn't say I like him," I say, struggling with words. "Boner is such a strong word," I finish.

Clyde seems to have calmed down at least. He leans against the building and folds his arms over his chest. "I'm worried about him. He's so... distant and weird. Maybe he's been like this before you showed up and I just didn't notice because of football..."

"Are you asking me?"

"Sh." He shoves his finger towards my face to silence me while he thinks. "I'll catch you later."

I have no idea why he'd need to but I'll be here, I guess. So I give him a friendly smile and wave that scream, _I'm high_ and it's only twenty minutes later that I realize I could have asked him where Craig is.

I am a burnout.

* * *

Craig, Craig, wherefore art thou, Craig?

He must be going to _some_ of his classes. I never bothered to pay attention to which classes he was leaving or headed to. I only paid attention to his face. What would I do if I found him anyway? I guess I don't want to talk to him really. I just want to see him. Maybe he's leaving early?

"Hey, Tweek," Kenny leans against the lockers over me. "How's your day been, beautiful?"

"Well, I skipped half my classes, Cartman punched me in the stomach, and I'm pretty sure Clyde wants my nuts in a vice. So, overall, good day," I conclude, shoving the last book in my locker. I shut it and turn towards the blonde.

"What's up with Clyde?"

I shrug, "He thinks I've like soiled his daughter's innocence or something." Kenny makes a face at me. "Craig," I clarify. He nods.

"Wanna get pizza?" He asks. I think it's safe to say Kenny and I have actually developed a real friendship but it was all on his part. I wasn't gunning for this. He's not so bad.

I shrug, "Not today, but thanks for trying."

"Anytime," he pats my shoulder. "I'll see you then."

"Okay." Kenny walks off with a group of girls that pass by. I roll my eyes. People are still leaving the hallway so I stay at my locker. I like to wait for everyone to leave first before I head out. I like wandering most when there's no one around, hence the night walks.

"Hey, Twitch!" I cringe and turn towards the brunette storming towards me at the end of the hallway. Token is strolling behind him with his hands in his pockets. "Where's Craig, huh?"

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Why would I know?"

Clyde glares at me, "I don't know. But, I do know that you did something or said something to him. And until he's better I. don't. like. _you_."

"I didn't do anything to him. Leave me alone, man."

"Hey, you probably don't get this because I know you have like, no friends, but I care about Craig, okay? And his wellbeing is my first priority. _God_ , is he a lot of maintenance," Clyde trails off, shaking his head. "Not the point..." A lot of maintenance. What does that mean? What would Craig require? And also, what an asshole, I have friends. Ha-ha, just kidding. I have Kenny though. I don't know what Wendy is. "If you hurt him, I will hurt you!"

"I don't even know what you're talking about," I start walking away. I would kick Clyde's ass.

"Whatever! _I mean it_ , Twitch!"

I stomp down the stairs. _I have no friends_ , he says. Who the fuck is Clyde to talk about me having no friends. He's an asshole, I doubt his friends even like him, otherwise Craig wouldn't be hiding from him. It is interesting though, to think that Craig may be thinking about me. I know he isn't, but what a nice thought.

Outside I squint and try to let my eyes adjust to the light. I pull the headphones from my pocket and untangle them. I shove the jack into my phone and start playing some music as I walk.

For the first time all winter I can see the sun. It spoils the only exposed skin I have- my face- with it's beautiful rays of warmness.. Kenny and I have plans to meet tonight at the park. He promised to show me how to climb the pavilion.

I suddenly get a really eerie feeling. Goosebumps prickle my skin and all the hairs on my neck stand straight. I glance over my shoulder and scream. Craig stares at me. "What the fuck?! Were you following me?" Craig's face doesn't change. I take a deep breath. "What? Haven't you been avoiding me? Clyde's looking for you."

Craig sighs, his brows furrow and his eyes dig into me like a blade- but there's something behind them. It's almost like they're talking to me. "What are you talking about? I wasn't avoiding you," he says. I nod because I want him to continue, though it's apparent he won't.

"Are you avoiding Clyde?"

He shakes his head, stops and then shrugs. "He's just... annoying sometimes."

"Okay," there's an awkward silence. I feel like he wants something from me but since I don't possess mind reading qualities I have no idea what it is. "Uhm, I should go...?" I start to turn back around.

But he stops me. "Wait," Craig says. His voice is even and monotone. The wind picks up and whips my hair into my face. I step back to facing the shorter niorette.

Even though he called after me, I don't think he even knew what he was going to say. But his eyes plead, _help me out here_. I just wish I knew with what. _Craig_ needing help from _me_. I'm really losing it, people. "Just... I- What are you doing?"

"Huh?" I blink at him.

His phone buzzes, he checks it, and glances back. "Are you busy? What are you doing?"

I shrug, "Nothing, I guess. Wha- Why?"

His phone starts ringing. He quickly denies the call. "It's Clyde. They're looking for me. C'mon, there's a place, I think you'll like it."

And then we're heading back in the direction of the school. Craig's head darts around a lot like he's looking for someone. He's probably just keeping an eye out for Clyde. Sometimes I wish I had friends. Friends that cared about me too. Craig has that and he's here hiding from them. I wonder why he's avoiding Clyde.

Actually, no I don't. That guy's a dick

"I found a way into the pool room." Craig snags back my attention. He glances over his shoulder at me. "No one uses it anymore. The pool's empty but, it's a nice smoking spot."

I just nod, following him to the back of the school. If I wasn't sure about Craig before I'm positive now. He's finds the weirdest places and he hides and apparently smokes. What a catch.

Craig walks past the door to an open window in the back. He grabs a cinder block and drags it to the wall. "I can go through and open the door for you, if you want," He eyes my ankle.

"That's okay. I got it," I tell him with a smirk. "I'm crazy, not a princess."

Craig nods. He steps onto the block and pulls himself through the window, quite skillfully. It made it look easy so when _I_ tried, I fell through onto my ass. In my mind though, there's no way you can't convince me that I tumbled into a spy-like roll.

I assess the situation and lift my wrist to my face for an update, "Area appears to be clear."

"Are you okay?" Craig asks.

My eyes shoot to him in the corner of my view. His eyes and voice hold no real concern. He never shows anything. It's awesome. I nod, "Just updating."

"Updating what? Why are you talking to your wrist?"

"I'm updating the base," I inform him.

"The base," he repeats with a nod. "What's the mission?"

Solve why Craig Tucker invited me to one of his secret hide outs away from Clyde and Token. "Classified information," I conclude.

Craig's lip gives the slightest twitch upward. "C'mon, nerd."

I push myself up and watch Craig hop into the empty pool. The room is exceptional light, considering the electricity doesn't work here. There are a lot of windows. I remember when this place was open but I never came. My mom always worried I'd do something stupid and bring attention to myself. She successfully isolated me, but I can't blame her for trying to protect me.

I roll until I reach the edge of the deep end. "Dude, don't fall from there. You'll die."

"Oh, for sure," I say. Craig reaches over the edge of the pool and pulls out a blue penny board. "What are you doing?"

He tosses his board on the ground and steps onto it. "I have no idea, as I usually don't."

Interesting tidbit.

As it would turn out, Craig can ride skateboards. I can't. I don't have any type of balance. That's why I ride a scooter. Craig skates up and around the pool, down into the deep end and back up into the shallow. He eventually stops to sit in the middle of the empty bowl criss-cross. He motions for me.

I sigh, a little reluctant to move from my current position, as it is very comfortable. But, for Craig's beautiful ass blue eyes, there's probably not much I wouldn't do. I crawl to the ladder and hop in.

"Would Clyde know to find you here?"

Craig shakes his head. "I have a lot of hiding spots. He knows I come back though. He knows I need my space sometimes."

"What's with that guy anyways?"

"Clyde?" Craig shrugs. "I think he was a mom in a past life." I laugh. Craig Tucker has a sense of humor. I don't even think he's trying. He's dead serious. "Why? Did he say something to you?"

I shake my head. "It's nothing to worry about, I guess."

"Clyde's all bark. Don't worry about him," Craig tells me with a distant stare.

"He's strange," I state with a nod.

" _You're_ strange."

"Everything's strange," I conclude. Craig just shrugs. Maybe he disagrees. "Why were you following me?" I ask him, after a brief hesitation. Because _that_ was strange. "After school." I add, in case he gets confused with another time he was following me. It could be very possible he follows me often, though I doubt it.

Craig glances at me with a face that says I killed the mood. Whatever the mood was, it apparently was something he appreciated. Now, it's gone. "I wasn't following you," he tells me. "I was walking in the same direction behind you."

I don't really believe him because Clyde and Token were looking for him. There's no way they didn't think to look outside if this is something that happens often. "It's creepy- stalking," I tell him.

"Yeah, it is. So why were _you_ stalking me for the past like, eon?"

I scoff, "I was not _stalking_ you," I say. "And what the hell is an eon? Who says eon?" And I'm the nerd?

"Yeah?" he says. "What do _you_ call it? Everywhere I went you were there, just staring at me like a creep."

"I do not recall. I don't even remember this happening once."

"Once? Try thirty times, at least. I counted."

"Do you do that often? Count things. It could be a form of OCD."

"Do you do that often?" he counters, "Try to non-chalantly redirect the conversation when you get uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable."

"You're crazy," he mutters.

"No," I try to mellow my temper. "I'm pretty stationary. What about you?" Craig is successfully pissing me off. I guess it's fair since I seemed to piss him off last time.

"I'm _nothing_ ," Craig says. I don't know what he means. It gets quiet. Like he's not crazy nothing or he's nothing _nothing_? Craig is staring at me but I don't know what he means and I never really did, did I? "What?" Craig snaps.

I flinch, "What? I don't know. I don't know…" I trail off.

Craig sighs, "Sorry."

"What?" What is going on? How did this situation get so weird? Now it's quiet again. I wonder how long Craig usually hides from Clyde and Token. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I did."

"Okay," I say, "now try to actually answer the fucking question!"

"No," Craig decides.

I sigh this time. "Then why am I here? This is a waste of my time." I push myself to my feet.

"Yeah, like you have something better to do," Craig spits, glaring up at me. Like _I_ wounded him.

I'm gonna hit him. How could I live with myself after hitting Craig? "What do you fucking know?"

Craig's anger slowly vanishes and his face goes back to it's neutral state. "Nothing," he says, softly.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask him. "You're all over the place. I can hardly handle my own emotions. I don't think I could deal with yours too." I'm just speaking. I ramble when I'm nervous and I'm nervous right now. I think Craig might actually be crazier than me and that means he might actually kill me in here.

But I pushed the wrong buttons. I said something wrong or- I don't know what I did but Craig isn't mad. I don't know what he is. Maybe I hurt his feelings. I don't think anyone's ever told him that before. Or anyone he cares about at least. I don't know why it would hurt coming from me. Maybe I just said the right things to hit home hard. I feel like dick.

His eyes that speak are unreadable but it's different than before when he was nothing. Now, I don't know. I blew it.

"I'm hungry," he says. "This was cool. Should do it again. I gotta go though. If I don't check in with Clyde for too long he thinks I killed myself or something."

"Whoa," my eyes widen, "melodramatic."

Craig shrugs and waves. Without another word he hops up onto the edge and stands. He stretches for a moment, glances back at me over his shoulder once more, almost like he was making sure I was still there- or if I had been there at all. And then Craig leaves. Craig leaves me in an empty abandoned pool that- now that I'm looking at it- is very unsanitary.

I need a bath.

And I need food.

And I need Craig. Yeah, I need him badly. Or I might really lose my marbles.

* * *

New installment. I should have a schedule for this story. Like posting weekly or something. Thanks for the love btw.

l1lz0mbabe, I know I love you so there. Since you're my first review c; For now though I'll probably just post whenever I want. I think it works better that way, until I run out of chapter I guess but we're only on chapter four so those are problems for my furture self. She never likes me much. K too much author note. Bye! Review! And anyone wanna help me with a summary?


	5. Freddy is a Sock

**Chapter track: Blue Diamonds by The Long Winters**

"How are you _feeling_?"

Honestly, I _feel_ like I might punch my dad in the face. "Dad, I'm fine. If I weren't fine, you and mom would know. I would tell you. I tell you guys how I'm doing so you can help me," I sigh. They know I only say what they wanna hear. I wonder why they even ask.

"I'm sorry son, but you did this to yourself. And, I'm just trying to figure out how if you _were_ fine, why you gave Eric a black eye and ' _bit_ ' him, from what I understand," my dad asks, with a look of disappointment and frustration. "Why can't you just lay low?"

I told my parents I was getting bullied once in elementary school and they tried to sue the school. When that failed, they tried to sue the kid. He moved after that. I'm pretty sure we got two dollars. So, I stopped telling them. "He was asking for it," I mumble.

Dad's stare narrows, "Is that boy messing with you, Tweek?"

"No."

"You can tell me," My dad rests his hand on top of mine.

"I know and he isn't so, there."

Dad sighs and massages his temples, "Okay. Fine. They gave you medication." I nod. "And you took it?" I nod. They made me take it. "You should be taking it _every day_."

"Okay."

Dad sucks his teeth, "I have to get back to work. Are you set?"

I nod again, "Yup."

"I'll see you when I get home. I love you. No more fighting." Dad kisses the top of my head.

I sigh. Fight. It was hardly a fight. Cartman beat my ass until I finally bit him and he cried because I broke skin, which is distraughting to some extent considering this boy once had aids and oh, my God, what have I done?

Who cares? I'm fine. But, now I'm all mellow and weird and fuzzy. And I have to wait for the counselor because everyone's so 'worried' about me. Whatever, they're worried about themselves and the other students. I mean, I _bit_ someone. How unstable. I'm _insane_ \- whooo!

I'm tired.

But, at least there's an upside to all of this. That, being that I got a cookie when I lied to the nurse and told her I hadn't eaten anything all day as an excuse to not have to take those freaking pills. I, of course, took it when I was offered sweets. I found this a Tweek Win.

I walk down the hall and consider actually going to the counselor since I pass it on my way to class but that counselor doesn't care about me. When I'm forced to go, I know how to persuade people. Not really, I just know how to get out of these situations as quick as possible. To make people think I'm okay. And I am. I'm okay. Really, I am. I do have problems though, but why add fuel to the fire, hm? It's fine. I have paint and stuff. They don't need to know about how I'm really doing or else they'd lock me up, or so my dad says and he's probably right.

So I tell my parents I'm fine and assure them that I'm honest with them and tell them everything about my wellbeing and mental health and when things don't go my way at school and I'm sent to this fucking dumbass children's psychiatrist, I sweet talk my way out.

When I turn the corner a smile forms on my face. I take a minute to try to rid myself of it. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite blue hat."

Craig looks up at me. He's in one of the chairs outside the counselor's office, staring at the wall. "What brings you to these parts?" I ask, flicking the yellow puff atop the niorette's head.

Something is wrong with Craig's eyes. They're distant and unlike all the other times I've looked into them, they don't speak to me. Almost like a dead link or a bad connection.

Craig turns his head away from me so I can't reach his hat anymore and then after some brief consideration, he yanks it off his head. That's probably for the best. I would've kept messing with it- or I just want to see his hair. "I knew you were stalking me," Craig says.

I laugh, "Dude, is it really so hard to believe that I'd be sent to the counselor's office?"

Craig doesn't seem fazed. He never does. He leans back in his chair and stares at me. "Why are you here?"

"I bit Cartman." I say and Craig just blinks at me. I take it as him wanting a better explanation, which I was gonna give regardless. "He burped on me so I attacked him. Of course, he was winning for the most part, until I bit him and he started crying because he was bleeding and he's a pussy. Whatever, _I'm_ crying because I might get his HIV. I haven't forgotten. I never forget." I grimace. "What about you?"

Craig shrugs, "Doesn't matter." He messes with his hat. Craig, despite his face being blank, is uncomfortable, I think. I like this. I've gotten a reaction. He has peaked my curiosity.

"Wanna ditch?" I ask, flicking some of his hair that's sticking up, as if it were his hat's puff.

He sighs, "They'll call my mom if I do," Craig says this in a way where I know he's already been thinking about leaving for a while. How long has he been out here?

"Do you really care if they call your mom?" I wonder out loud. "I have five bucks, my scooter, and a back way out of school. I know you have your penny board. Let's roll, man," I flash my eyebrows at the niorette. "I will buy you a candy bar."

"Wow, you're really lame," Craig observes. He glances at his hat in his hands and shrugs. "I should just go. Maybe we can hang out later."

My heart is soaring. If it doesn't return soon, I will die. I snatch it from the clouds and return it to it's spot in my chest. Yeah, he turned me down, but he does want to hang out with me! He want's to hang out later! Unless, he's just blowing me off. "I'm going by Stark's later today," I say. "I was working on water but all the water's frozen over now, so I'm working on ice."

"Working on?"

"Painting," I explain.

Craig nods understandingly. "Maybe," he mumbles.

"Well, I'll be out there around five," I tell him. And then with an awkward goodbye, I head back to class. At the door I have an epiphany: Craig's eyes were fogged over because he was on medication too.

* * *

At lunch Wendy finds me in the smoking alley. She seems a little out of her element but sits with me anyways, claiming she isn't hungry. "How are things going with your..." I think, "problems?"

Wendy shrugs, "They're good. They're better actually but, I just feel like nothing was addressed. Everyone just acted like nothing happened, you know? It feels wrong." I don't exactly what Wendy is talking about but, I'm not at liberty to know so, whatever. I'll listen to her if she needs it. "Thank you for, um caring Tweek," she glances at me before continuing to stare at her snow boots.

"No problem."

"What about you?" she asks. "Are you okay? I heard you bit Eric."

I scratch my neck, "I'm fine. You know how Cartman is and, well, you know how I am."

She nudges me with her shoulder. "I would have done the same thing." But Wendy can actually kick his ass. Still, this comforts me for whatever reason. I hear a scuff noise and turn towards the entrance of the alley but whoever was there isn't anymore.

"Weird," Wendy says.

"Who was that?" I ask her.

"Craig," she says. "But he stopped when he saw us and left." Shit, is he avoiding me _again_? "You know, the other day, I saw you walking with Craig after school," she tells me.

"Oh," is all I respond with. I don't know what she thinks she knows yet. I also can say I don't know what I want her to know yet.

"I didn't know you two were friends," she says.

"We're not."

Wendy nods, "Oh-" She pauses, " _Oh_!"

"No!- Wendy, we just talk," I tell her.

"Oh..." she says, laughing awkwardly. "I was just gonna say that makes sense. Craig never talks to girls." She shrugs, "Maybe they don't talk to him." She chuckles. "You're nice, Tweek- honest. It's refreshing."

What a weird thing to say. "Okay," I blink. I think she just called me weird, but at least she did it without calling me crazy. "Thanks..."

* * *

You can't even imagine the feeling when you don't specifically hate yourself, but you're also not very fond either. Then, someone you thought- _for whatever reason_ \- liked you stands you up and whatever type of confidence you got from them making you think someone liked you, which actually wasn't much in the first place, vanishes, leaving you just this empty pit of self-pity and hate.

I'm so stupid. I can't believe I even _thought_ Craig would come. Why would he come? We're not even friends. He helped me once only because he probably blamed himself and thought I was gonna die otherwise. If that's the case, I wish he'd have just left me for death.

I'm being way dramatic but I feel terrible. Like, just realizing that I'm actually not attractive at all. I am no Kenny McCormick. Not even close. Kenny is attractive. That's why he can have whoever he wants. But, me? On top of being ugly, I'm fucking known as a psycho.

But Craig's not perfect. Fuck, he _so_ is. It's his imperfections that make him so fucking irresistible. This is making me more depressed. I scribble more paint onto my stupid board. After waiting an hour, I gave up on the stupid water. I first drew things like knives and fire but then I got started on another Craig. Though, I've been done with this phase or so I thought.

So far, this is the best I've ever done.

Craig sits in the middle of the paper, in only boxers, looking matted and disheveled. His hair is crazy like that one time I saw him without his hat. He's surrounded by darkness, except a small orb of light that surrounds his body. I made sure to make his eyes vivid. I put my paintbrush down for a break

It's about two now. I've been working on this for hours and I still feel like a waste of space. It's possible that drawing Craig is actually making my mood deteriorate.

I get up and do a handstand against the wall- or, that's what I was attempting before I fell on my neck. I cry out and roll onto my side in pain. I can feel my legs though, so nothing broke. That's good. I am not ready to be paralyzed.

I decide since I'm already on the floor, being weird, I might as well check the underworld: under my bed. You can find some crazy things under there. But unfortunately, after the cleaning frenzy of last week, I only find a sock. I name him Frederick.

I have a sudden realization. My mom's never gonna get me a ukulele. She's just doing what parents do when you want something. They use it against you. If you want it, you have to act right until we get for you, which is NEVER. It's a genius strategy, if you think about it.

There's a knock.

I pop my head out from under my bed and listen. There's another knock. It's coming from my window. I slide my body from under the structure and stand. Cautiously, I make my way to the glass. It thumps again. I draw the curtain back a little hesitant. I peek through the crack I've made but it's too dark to see.

I don't know why I'm being so skeptical. Who else would be throwing rocks at my window at two in the morning? If not Kenny, then a rapist. In the back of my mind, I know who I want it to be, but I'm still in my self-depreciation.

I pull the curtain back all the way and look out. My brows furrow, in disbelief and a little irritation before I unlock my window and push it open. Just so I can make sure what I'm seeing.

Craig stares up at me. His arm with another rock ready to throw drops. Rather than scream at him and wake up all the surrounding neighbors, including my parents, who wouldn't care anyways (but maybe they would), I slam shut my window, probably giving the same effect. Close my curtains and rush down the stairs. I trip on the last step but continue my hast in the form of a crawl, eventually pushing myself to my feet again. I get to the door, tap the code into the alarm, and pull it open.

Craig's standing there. My mood suddenly brightens. "How'd you know that was my window?" I ask him, briefly picturing what would have happened if he had gotten my parents instead.

"The light was on at two- thirty in the morning and I saw you climbing out of it once."

"Oh," I nod. "Well, what do you want?" My mood turns sour when I remember how this asshole stood me up.

"Let me in."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I wonder out loud. "This isn't your house," I remind him.

"Yeah, but I walked all the way over here for you," he tries.

 _How sweet_. I scoff, "You were already up and probably made three rounds before stopping by." I raise an eyebrow at him, expectantly.

He groans. "I wanna talk about earlier. I'm here to... express my- uhm- remorse for not coming earlier."

Apologize? He's sorry? And he came to tell me that? "Oh yeah, you sound so _remorseful_." I say. My humor is unrecognized or unappreciated. But I step aside for the niorette. "Welcome to our humble abode." At this, the dark haired boy glances at me as if to ask, 'are you alright?' And I'm a- okay.

We quietly walk through the house and up the stairs. Craig enters my room like any other person does, staring at the ceiling first and then ask my weird stuff. But he differs in that he travels over to my desk. My heart plummets. I left my painting on my desk. He picks it up and stares at it. I consider slowly backing out of the room. Also, I will never draw Craig again because all I need is one more person finding out about my infatuation of him. "Is this me?"

"Whoa, cocky much?" I joke, trying to play it off. "No, it's not _you_." I snatch the picture out of his hands and wish I hadn't used a board so I could just roll it up and store it away. But, since I used a board because I was feeling fancy- smancy, I have to carefully place it against the wall in my closet. In my head I just shove it in there and act like I don't care, but it's really good, man. "There's a lot of people in the world with dark hair and blue eyes." I say, though, it's bull shit

"I know. Just, not in South Park."

"I'm not saying it's anyone we know, but it could just as well be Stan."

"Stan has brown eyes."

"Really?" I blink and tap my chin. " _Really_?" I look at him and Craig nods. "Wow..." I feel like I should have known that. "And, that," I point to the board that's facing the wall in my closet. "He had blue eyes?" Craig nods again. "Interesting... Anyway, I believe you were apologizing?"

Craig shrugs, "I didn't come to Stark's because my mom was freaking out on me. So, calm down," he says. "I wanted to." The last part is quiet and weird. Un-Craig like. It feels like Craig wouldn't usually talk like this. Clearly, he's dead set on not using the 'S' word specifically, but I don't think he'd have added that, 'I wanted to' part for anyone else. As self-absorbed that sounds. I feel like he used it because of how sensitive I am. And I wonder how he knew I was sensitive when I didn't even know.

"Whatever, man, it's not a big deal." Well, I feel pregnant. Mood swings. I'm talking about mood swings. I've completely flip-flopped like four times. But, now, I can honestly say I don't give a shit. Only because Craig's in my room right now.

Craig climbs up and flops onto my bed and makes himself comfortable. Cute. He's so cute. I want to make him smile. A real genuine ass smile. And I want to be the cause. But how hard would that be? Damn near impossible, I bet. I wonder if he smiles with Clyde and Token or maybe only when he's alone.

"I like your room." he declares. Right now Craig looks like a kitten to me, all wrapped up in my covers. His hat came off in the action and it takes all my self-control to not rape him.

"What was your mom freaking out about?" I'm having a battle in my head about whether or not it's okay to sit on the bed next to him. I've kinda been dreaming about being on a bed with Craig the past... while. But, it's not like anything would happen. Nothing would happen and it's _my_ bed. But the way Craig's hair is all messed up and the way he looks so peaceful. I just want to bite his lip. I want to bruise his neck and I want to taste him.

I shudder. Enough. _Enough_.

I throw myself onto the bed next to the niorette. I don't pick my face up though. Craig answers, "It's personal."

"Cool," I mumble into sheets.

"I wanna see your paintings," He nudges my shoulder.

It warms my whole entire body- his touch. I turn my head to face him and say, "It's personal." Craig glares at me and I give him a wink. "Seriously, dude, they're not even good."

"The one I saw was good."

I shrug, "Luck."

"I'm gonna find them," he says, sitting up.

I snort, "You can try." I already know my bag of Craig is downstairs and anything else I've drawn is either in my closet or my bookshelf. Which he'd probably find my sketch books but a majority of those sketches suck anyways. "Just don't get the one from the closet," I add.

"Yeah, whatever," Craig mumbles, moving to his feet. "I don't know why you're trying to hide it if it's not me though," he feels the need to add.

I don't even bother looking up as the niorette scavenges through my room. I hear him under my bed, on my desk, and last he looks through my closet. I hear some papers rustle. "Is this Kenny?"

My head shoots up but when I see what he's talking about it drops again and I start laughing. "Oh, my God, yes." As you could probably guess, Kenny likes to be naked. We've never slept together or anything (I don't think Kenny's gay or bisexual by any means but just very open minded and flirtatious) but I have seen his dick and it's a very pretty dick. And in his glory, I was like, _heck, might as well draw him_. _It's a pretty dick_ , I wanted to draw it. And Kenny and I were just having a riot. We were both high and he kept saying, 'paint me like one of your French girls'.

Craig examines the painting before looking bored and discarding it to go through the rest. A bird, a tree, a lot of flowers, a sad attempt at the sky- or what it would look like if it weren't always snowing, a vase, an owl. "Are you done yet?"

"Are you tired?" he asks. I answer his question with a laugh. "Let's go to Stark's," he says. "So you can paint. Since neither of us is tired anyway."

"It's dark," I mutter, not tired but also not motivated enough to stand.

"Who cares? If you wanna be good, you have to challenge yourself," Craig says.

"You're a motivational speaker now? Is that how _you_ challenged yourself? Wow." I say, sarcastically. "Still lacking that emotional push though. Try harder to move your eyebrows or maybe change the tone of your voice sometime." My criticism is unappreciated, as is everything else in my life.

"We can bring a flashlight," he says.

I roll onto my side and blink down at Craig. "You're a straight-up dumbass."

And then it happened. It was too quick for me to process and I wished that I had my camera but it was in my desk, too far and too hard to reach. What if it never happens again? And I forget how it looked?

Craig smiled. It was nothing big or anything. Probably his best attempt at a laugh. But it included a flash of metal from his braces and, dear Christ, a dimple in his left cheek. My heart stopped. I have to bang my chest to restart it and when it does decide to finally work again it's too fast for me to live. I am going to die.

I would never go now. I want Craig to stay with me in my bright room all night and I just want to make him smile.

It's gone too quick. His features return back to their neutral state, looking almost betrayed by themselves. He seems uncomfortable. _I had seen_. I wonder what he's self-conscious about. I want to wrap around him and hold him to my chest like a teddy bear. I wouldn't let go until I was sure he was okay. I would _make_ him okay. I would play with his hair and kiss him.

I want to draw him smiling. But he'd never stay like that long enough. I'd have to get a picture and how would I achieve that? New mission inputted. "We can go down there and I'll take some pictures." I say. "But, I'm not drawing tonight. I'm tired of drawing. I need a break."

"Sure," Craig says. Not sarcastically. Not anything. I imagine him being so embarrassed about me seeing him smile that he'd want to wrap up in a blanket and hide under his bed forever. Sometimes I feel that. Imagining Craig with real emotions that he just hides makes me feel closer to him because I know I'm right. And I saw it tonight. And no one else would ever know.

* * *

 _I imagine Craig's eyes would look something like blue diamonds... nah I just couldn't find a better song to 'fit' the chapter and this one's been in my head all week. If you have a better one, please do tell. Anyway reviews and junk. I really love reading your comments and writing this story so :p_


	6. Share Lighters, Share Weed, Share Love

**Chapter Track: So High by Six60**

You're probably wondering what happen after Craig and I went to Stark's the other night.

Well, prepare to be disappointed because nothing happened. We came back to my house and the sun was coming up, Craig said he better go before his parents wake up and catch him. I convinced him to follow me to my roof to watch the sunrise with me because somehow my house is placed perfect for that. And at the end of it all, I got a kiss. Ha, just kidding. Craig didn't stay for the sunrise, insisting that he go home or his parents will kill him and he didn't even say bye. He flicked me off, but that's to be expected right?

We didn't come to school and suddenly became friends. We came to school and I never saw him. It's just like before. Craig seems to be pretty good at hide and seek. I find this to be a very strange trait. It's also not very surprising coming from the niorette.

Clyde continues to give me dirty looks, Kenny continues to talk to me, and Wendy and I occasionally share some words. All is well, I suppose. I still see Craig in the morning but he won't look at me, probably because of Clyde (or perhaps he just thinks I'm a creep, a viable option).

I can't figure this guy out! He helps me out and then ignores me. He comes to my house and then flicks me off. Is it okay to even talk to him at school? God, this kid has me mistaken for Kenny. I can't read his freaking mind. Especially when he's so flip-flop and all neutral- faced. He _could_ make it a little easier for me!- or maybe he can't.

But I invited him out and he wanted to come (that's what he said, at least) and then he came to my house to "apologize". He put forth some effort and I feel like I should pay attention to that. But what if it didn't mean anything and I'm reading into it.

"Tweek, you're stressing. I can see it. What's bothering you, man?" Kenny moves the hair on my forehead back. I stare at him with wide eyes. "Sorry," he says, "I know- sneaking up- I need to work on that."

I take his wrist and move his hand from my face. Kenny also needs to work on touching but I feel like I've reminded him enough for him to realize his mistake even if he doesn't verbalize it. "I'm not stressing," I tell him. His hand immediately goes to my hip, diminishing my previous thought. "Why do you always have to touch me?"

"Because, baby, you're beautiful," Kenny whispers to me. I roll my eyes. "Except when you're all stressed out- looking. What's up?" I shrug. "Is it Craig- that asshole," Kenny makes a face of disgust.

"I don't know," I move his hand from my side. The last thing I need is people talking about me being out. I'm not out. I'm not gay. I'm just the psycho. Don't look at me.

Kenny thinks and then concludes his thought with a shrug, "If you want that, Tweek, then get it. I feel like Craig would be easier than he looks. To me he looks sexually constrained and like he might jack off to your picture in the yearbook." Kenny expresses his words with hand gestures, just making it worse.

"K- Kenny!"

He shrugs, "I calls it how I sees it." He glances across the hall at the niorette with Clyde and Token- an odd mix if you think about it. Clyde does sports and is failing in school, Token exceeds in study and only plays basketball, and then there's Craig, the potato. I think Craig strives off of the two. Like maybe he wouldn't be able to function at all without the other boys help.

Clyde does seem to act like a mother to the boy and then maybe Token is there to calm everything down. I think Clyde and Craig together is explosive and then adding Token holds everything down just enough.

I wonder what I would do to the equation. "You should make a move. Haven't you talked to him already? With the ankle and the house visit. You should've done it when he came to your house," Kenny points at me.

I shake my head. I dare a glance at the boys but it's brief. I'm scared Craig will sense it. He always seems to. "What does that even mean? Making a move?"

"Just like, kiss him. You seem really invested in this, so I'd say take him on a date but, Craig doesn't seem like the dating type and he might flick you off and kick you if you asked him."

What if he didn't know it was a date? But how on earth would I manage that? I couldn't even get him to come to Stark's with me. I still don't know what to make of that... "I don't know. What if we just hung out? I don't want to just kiss him..."

"I think you do want to kiss him. I think you wanna do more than kiss him." Kenny makes smoochy faces at me and I push his ugly mug away.

You don't have to be psychic to know I want to kiss Craig. Of course I do. I can't even think about it too long. "Craig deserves more than that."

Kenny raises his eyebrows. "Craig's a princess now? I didn't realize." He snickers. I sigh. "I'm sorry," he says. "That's cute. You two can hang out on your roof then or something. You can show him your 'Sailor Moon' bobble heads and you two can share pickles." Kenny laughs again.

I shut my locker, "I'll see you later, Kenny."

"I'm sorry- okay!- I'm sorry," he says. "What are you gonna do, man?"

"I don't fucking know," I admit.

Oxoxo

During lunch I was gonna go smoke a blunt in the alley but before I could get there I was approached. Sometimes I see people coming in my direction and make up crazy scenarios, as if they're actually coming to talk to me. This time, they actually were, which is, oddly a pleasant surprise.

"Hey, man," Token greets me with that winning smile. I don't blame the girls who slept with him, knowing what a slut he is. Fuck- I'd sleep with him in a heartbeat. Token has that smart kind of sexy going for him. On top of that, he's rich. Token is virtually perfect.

I don't respond right away because I'm trying to figure out what's going on. Mostly, why this keeps happening to me? I don't even know what to say, which is dumb. I should just say hi. That's like first nature to everyone in this world except me, I suppose. But, how could I not be skeptical? I don't have any friends (never have- well there was that brief period in elementary school with Stan and Kyle's group but that was only because Kenny was gone and they liked to fuck with me. I really think they're a lot of the cause why I'm like this but that's irrelevant.) Now, all of a sudden, our sophomore Gods are trying to interact with me? The psycho loner kid? Well they do have Craig, so it is possible they're adding recruits to their army, but unlikely.

Clyde's face is less inviting. His lips in that same strict tight line and his eyes narrowed and suspicious. Even though I've never been, I can tell it's the look a father gives you when you're taking his daughter to prom because he knows what's gonna happen in the back of that limo. He was a teenager once too. "Hey," Clyde is civil, regardless.

I blink at the two and then look around the emptying hall. No Craig. "What do you want from me?"

"Interesting question," Clyde says, raising his eyebrows at Token expectantly.

Token slaps his arm. "Shut up, dude." The dark skinned boy looks back at me. "We just wanted to know if you were busy Friday."

This could be very dangerous. I'm never busy, that's even funny to me but why would Token need this information. Maybe they're trying to figure out my schedule. They wanna get me alone. They want to kill me! "Dude, what's up with you?" Clyde raises an eyebrow.

A hand slaps on my shoulder and I release a scream and grab my hair. "Oops, my bad. Tweek, you got the stress face again. These guys bothering you?" Kenny glares at the two. Token takes a step back. He just remembered why I'm called a psycho and realized he was too close. Clyde just glares right back. Whatever mission they're on, he seems determined.

"Look," Token says, cautiously. "Friday, Craig, Clyde, and I decided to get together for some movies at my place," he tells me.

"I thought since Craig fancies you, it might make him feel better if you came," Clyde cuts in. This was his idea, he just needed support.

"Why would he need to feel better? What's wrong with him?" I ask. There's no way I'd go though. "Craig fancies me?"

Clyde opens his mouth but Kenny cuts him off. "Like a party?"

"No," Token quickly says to the blonde. "Not a party. You can't come."

"C'mon, Toke, we're coming up on winter break, tests are about to start, why not? Everybody could use it." Kenny is like a salesman. Token looks like he's considering it. If it's a party, I'm _definitely_ not going. "How about just a little party? Your group, my group, a couple of hot chicks..."

Token glances at Clyde who shakes his head but Token looks conflicted. "We haven't thrown a party in like, forever."

"Really, Toke? We can throw a party next weekend." Clyde says, sounding frustrated.

"Yeah, but, my parents will be back next weekend and then it'll be break and junk."

I didn't hear my name in Kenny's list anyway and no one is addressing that. I sure as hell won't. "Craig hates parties," Clyde says through gritted teeth to his partner.

Token sighs, "He doesn't _hate_ them," he says. "He always gets drunk and stuff," Token shrugs.

"Because he hates them!"

"Yeah, well, Tweek can still come." Token gestures towards me. "And it won't even be a lot of people."

I check my imaginary watch. "Oh, goodness me, would you look at the time! I'm actually late so I must get going but this was nice." I start to move past the boys, slowing down to speak. "I probably can't make the party. I'm super busy. All the time. Like right now so- but thank you! I really appreciate the offer," I say moving through the hall. "Tell Craig I said hello." I've finally made it to the stairway and, Jesus, I couldn't get through those doors quick enough. I stumble down the stairs, reminded of my fall earlier that week when my foot hits the ground and the familiar ache returns.

After I make it to the alley, currently homing three of the Goth kids that freak me the fuck out but are some of the few that treat me like a human, along with Kenny, I sit and whip out my pre-rolled joint for this occasion and realize I forgot my lighter. Fuck. There's no way I'm asking a Goth for one, they'll probably steal my soul.

"Fuck." This means I'll have to go through the rest of the day somber, which is fine when I'm prepared for it but today I thought it'd be hazy. Fuck. Maybe I can use the sun- no that's stupid. Fuck.

Something falls in front of me. It's a battered blue lighter with 'fuck' scratched into it. "Here."

I glance up. Craig stares down at me with very light blue eyes and a pink nose. His lips are redder too from the cold. "Thank you." I light my joint as the niorette slides down the wall, joining me on the cold concrete. I take a drag and offer some to Craig. I feel it's only proper. Share lighters, share weed, share love. That's how the world should work.

He takes it from my hands and takes a slow drag himself. "Did Clyde talk to you?" he asks, plucking the weed from his mouth and examining it for no other reason than to have something to do.

I nod, "and Token." Craig sighs and shakes his head. "Well, you should come."

"Do you know," I ask, "that it's a party now?" I add.

Craig stares at me and then at the ground. I pass him the joint again and he takes a hit. "I didn't know that." He takes another hit. "How did that happen?"

I shrug, "Kenny."

Craig nods. "Kenny is fucking stupid." He doesn't sound mad as I imagine he is. He says Kenny like Kenny says Craig. That's funny. "Well," Craig says. "You should come."

"Really?" I ask. "I'm not going to," I tell him, bluntly. "I don't like the party scene."

"Clyde and Toke throw good parties."

"I know," I say, rolling the joint between my fingers. "But I don't like parties. I don't like people and they don't like me either."

Craig is leaning against the brick building staring at the sky. His eyes shoot to mine right away but I hold his stare. Craig eyes are starting to get hazy, I can tell but there's that same sensation like he wants to tell me something with them. "Fine."

He asks me to go to a party with him and then acts like he doesn't care when I decline. Did Craig send Clyde and Token after me? He asked if they talked to me. Maybe the whole thing was actually Craig's idea and that's why Clyde got mad when Token turned it into a party. Craig hates parties but then, why does he even go?

My hand brushes against Craig's. I gasp, snatching it back. Craig stares at me and watches my reaction, which, now that I realize what's happened is my face flushing. I babble about being sorry or whatever and Craig just scoffs and shakes his head. He stands, flicks me off, and leaves.

I did it again. I was weird around Craig. Why does he even still talk to me? Fuck. I've never wished to be normal so bad before. Craig fucking sucks. He is ruining my simple, lonely life. Craig tucker with his fucking braces and his fucking dimples and his fucking hat, his short messy hair. Craig fucking Tucker.

I finish my joint and head to biology.

* * *

I am being followed. I think it's fair to say I'm a strange person, at the least. That in mind, there's not much that sets me off, besides the obvious, obviously. I'm a paranoid person by nature so that doesn't count. The point is I'm being followed home.

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do in these situations. Everyone thinks I'm crazy so they'll just think I'm crazy, but I'm fucking not! The authorities in South Park fucking suck so I doubt I'd get the proper help anyways.

I haven't looked- No! I know how it fucking sounds, okay? But, I am being followed. I've never been so sure about anything before in my life! Except that I am gay. I am gay and I am being fucking followed home. I'm scared if I look they'll attack me and what if I am wrong? What if no one is there or someone is there but either way I actually am insane?

Have I started hallucinating? Fuck. Fuck. I expected this but not so soon!

"Tweek,"

"GAH!" I grab my head. "I don't have any money, I swear!"

"Chill, dude. Just me," Clyde says, walking beside me. I glare at the brunette for a full minute. He doesn't even glance at me but says, "I can't help it if you're a twitchy spazz. Listen up though," he shoves his hands in his pocket, nonchalantly, but fuck if I haven't fucking had it with motherfucking Clyde Donovan and his stupid ass father routine and his 'not liking me because Craig fucking does'. Unless, of course he has feelings for Craig as well. I would not hold it against him. I'm about to sock Clyde Donovan. "I wanted to talk to you again about the... _party_ ," he rolls his eyes.

I glance around, my eyes landing on a thick tree across the street. My brow furrows but I shake it off. "I really think you should reconsider coming. I know you aren't doing anything because you don't have friends and even if you did, they'd be at this party," Clyde continues.

I could do it. I could punch him right now and then he'd leave me the fuck alone and stop pestering me and pissing me off. We're not on school campus and no one would see it- except for Craig, who is (for whatever reason) hiding behind a tree in the Steven's yard. I suspect Token is nearby too, probably with a getaway car.

I sigh and turn to Clyde with narrowed eyes. "Clyde," I growl, through clenched teeth. "I don't fucking want to go your stupid fucking party so leave me the fuck alone before I fucking bop you." I raise my closed fist to emphasize.

Clyde stops talking, finally and just kinda blinks. He looks like he can't believe I just said that. A glance over my shoulder tells me that Craig probably heard that because he peeked from the tree and got caught. I already knew but I don't think he knew I knew.

Clyde is still walking along side me, much to my dismay. He finally spits, "What's your _problem_?"

I scoff and stop walking to turn completely towards him, " _My_ problem? What the hell is your problem?" I ask, face turning red. "Ever since you started talking to me, you've been a dick. You think just because I don't have a lot of friends I'm gonna be jumping at every fucking person that acknowledges me? Fuck you, you're not a God." I will probably laugh at this later. "In case you didn't know, Clyde, Craig is not your daughter. And, in any case, I did nothing to him! You and him and Token have been fucking messing with me like, all week and I'm sick of it! _Fuck_ , dude Hop of my dick!"

Clyde doesn't look as mad as I thought he might. I thought he'd punch me, but he stands still, staring at the ground and then at me and then behind me. "Hey," I turn around. This doesn't scare me as much because I knew Craig was there. He's the only one that could have been there. I raise an eyebrow at him, chest rising and falling faster from me almost losing my temper. Now, I'm kinda embarrassed, but not my fault. I can't just all of a sudden have all these people around me when I'm used to no one. Who knows how I'd act. Like this, apparently.

Craig's face is pale, probably from the cold. He's got on mittens and it's the type of thing I think Clyde makes him do because Clyde is motherly like that and no teen wears mittens. But Craig is adorable so he's an exception. Well, that and he'd probably knock out a few teeth if you made fun of him. "What?" I ask, still tense, even with Craig out of hiding.

"Come to the party," Craig says, no emotion on his face or in his voice. I narrow my eyes at him and we stare each other down for a long ass time. It reminds me of when I was on my roof a while ago and he walked by. I've caught my breath and I'm not pissed anymore, but I still wanna hit Clyde.

"Fuck," I glance at Bebe's house where her car is pulling in the driveway. I can see Wendy inside it with Bebe through the window. "Fine," I tell the niorette and leave it at that. I wanna get home, take a bath, drink some tea, and read comics. Just me and my laptop and I can pretend this day never existed. That my parents wore a condom the night I was conceived and they never brought my crazy ass into this world.

* * *

 _Tell me what you think about switching to Craig's POV. Was just thinking about it_ _…_


	7. SHAKE THE GLITTER

**Chapter Track: Tongue Tied by Grouplove & Wasted by Tiesto**

It's almost nine and I'm standing outside Token's house next to Kenny, high off our asses and cold as shit. Kenny's in his usual parka and some worn jeans. I wear my ashy green hoodie and some slightly baggy skinnies.

I'm sure I'd be nervous right now if I could even think straight. Maybe I would be? Who fucking cares? "Kenny," I start with a snicker. The blonde looks at me, containing his own laughter. "This is my first party," I tell him. We bust out laughing together.

How long have we just been standing here? I think it took us longer than it feels to get here. It might be ten. "Stick with me and you'll have a good time," Kenny promises. I just nod with a stupid smile on my face. "Let's go inside, man. It's fucking cold."

We laugh some more, kicking our way through the snow up the Black's driveway. Inside is way warmer than outside and not because the heater's on. There's like a million teenagers bunched together in his living room dancing together. It's almost beautiful.

"This is more than you're group and a few chicks, Ken," I point out.

"My friends told their friends. What'd you expect?" Kenny pushes past kids, dragging me into the kitchen. He grabs a random bottle of whiskey off the counter that sits with other random bottles of alcohol and hands it to me. "This is like your lifeline, okay?" he has to scream in my ear for me to be able to hear him. I only nod, not even wanted to attempt talking over the noise. "I'm gonna be in the bathroom smoking with some friends later. You should find me then,"

I squint, "Where are you going?"

He snatches another bottle and raises both hands with a shrug. "Gonna find someone to fuck, I guess." And Kenny abandons me. I could probably care more if I tried but instead I pop the cork out of the bottle in my hands and take a swig.

The next thing I know I'm chugging beer after beer through a tube and a funnel with a crowd chanting my name. I learned so far that all these premature pixie sticks are fucking lightweight as hell and I could totally probably outdrink all of them- with the exception of Kenny, I think. So I put my skills to use. They're all so easily impressed. And not one comment about my sanity!

Finally the beer ceases and the crowd cheers. I pump my fist in the air. Everyone pats my back as I exit the room and I make it to the living room where I mindlessly dance for how long I'm not really sure but I bump into someone who grabs my hips. I glance over my shoulder.

"Wendy!" I grin and turn around to face the dark haired girl.

Wendy's clearly been with Bebe because her usually bare face is caked with makeup, her hair is curled in the Steven's manner, and she's in a tight little club dress. Don't get me wrong, she looks good. "You look hot," I tell her over the music.

She smiles at me, "Thanks." I can smell the beer on her breath. "I didn't know you were gonna be here," she says.

"Same," I say.

"I'm just here to get wasted," she explains.

"SAME!" We laugh.

Wendy and I move together to the beat. I push some of her hair away from her ear and ask, "Kenny said he was gonna smoke in the bathroom. Wanna drop by?"

"Oh, fuck yeah," Wendy grins at me. We push through people to the downstairs bathroom.

I struggle to push the door open because there's a towel shoved under the door. Inside the lights are off and there are candles lite. It's completely fogged and reeks of marijuana.

I step around the door and Wendy follows. Kenny is in the bathtub, Clyde is on the toilet, Red is sitting on the floor cross cross. She passes the bong to Clyde but he stops when he sees me and starts spazzing out. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Craig's looking for you," he tells me.

I drop myself in the open space next to Red and shrug, "Hasn't been looking too hard apparently."

Red has a bottle of rum and little plastic shot cups in front of her. I help myself. "I'm sure I'll run into him before the night ends," I tell Clyde, while pouring myself a shot. I flash my eyebrows at him before I down it.

Wendy walks over to the tubs and gestures at Kenny. "Move 'ver a lil' bit," she slurs.

Kenny smirks at her, "Just sit in my lap, sweetheart," he flirts and surprisingly Wendy obliges, climbing into the tub and cozying up to Ken.

Clyde hands the bong to Kenny who holds it for Wendy. It's cute. I take another shot. I should find Craig. I wonder if he's drunk at all. I wonder if he's a lightweight. I want to see him. Maybe I shouldn't though. I don't trust myself right now.

"Tweek," Wendy calls. I snap out of my daze and take the bong and lighter she's handing me. I take two hits before passing it to Red.

What seems like an hour later were still in the foggy dark lite bathroom smoking and talking about nothing long enough for me to understand what we're even talking about.

"When girls have hair on their stomachs it's like, unappealing but when guys have it, it's edible," Wendy says.

"I have a happy trail," Kenny tells the girl. Wendy smiles at him and he takes her hand, placing it on his stomach under his shirt.

"It's all about society," Clyde says. "These people in an office decide what they want in the world and fax the memo to the magazines and then the celebrities just follow the instructions," he explains.

"Illuminati," Red concludes. "That's like the rich guys who make decisions."

"I heard that they kill anyone who doesn't do what they want," Kenny chimes in.

"So illuminati is God?" Red asks.

"Essentially," Wendy tells her.

"You know people who're double jointed live shorter lives than normal people," Kenny says.

"I'm double jointed, dude!" Clyde cries.

"Then it sucks to be you," Kenny snickers. Everyone starts to laugh.

Red starts passing everyone shots for a round of drink or dare. It starts with Clyde who dares Wendy to just kiss Kenny already (her hand still in his shirt). That led to Wendy making out with Kenny in the bathtub for a few minutes while we cheered, unnecessarily loud.

Wendy dares Red to down the rest of the rum. Red doesn't hesitate but after she finishes she vomits in the sink. "Fuck," she swears. We still cheer for her braveness. I'm a little upset about the rum being gone now though. Red finishes rinsing out her mouth and points to Clyde with a determined face, "I dare you to streak!" She laughs maniacally.

Clyde's eyes widen, "Can I drink?"

Red holds up an empty rum bottle, "Not an options anymore, kid," she tells him and flashes her eyebrows while biting her lip to fight off a smirk.

Kenny and Wendy start chanting, "Strip! Strip! Strip!"

Clyde looks uncertain for a minute before jumping to his feet kicking off his shoes. "I get to keep my socks though," he quickly says to the red head, throwing his shirt over his head.

"Woo!" I encourage the brunette along with my peers, thinking that this will be something Clyde might regret tomorrow morning but fuck what I think I know right now.

The door opens when Clyde's down to his boxers, Kenny is kissing Wendy again, and Red looks like she just got sick again, leaning over the sink just in case. I'm zoned and I can't feel my fingertips.

I manage to glance at the door. I grin, "Craig, hey," I say to the niorette. He looks a lot of nothing but very far away and tall. I smile to myself. "I was just about to look for you," I tell him. I don't know if that's true. I think it used to be.

"What are you doing?" he asks me, looking around the room. Wendy and Kenny have stopped sucking face to watch us and Clyde has stopped stripping.

"Something," I assure him. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here. I can't even remember how I got here.

"Well," Craig starts but stops and stares at me. Fuck, his eyes. I can't read them this far away but he's so close. I've gone blind. I don't know what he wants. I can tell he can tell I'm lost too because he glares at me instead now.

"Well," I echo. I won't mention that he could very well speak what he wants like a normal person but I don't wanna piss him off more.

"Hey, wanna go somewhere," Kenny says to Wendy. She blinks at him like she doesn't understand what he just said but nods anyway. Something I think she'll probably regret tomorrow but fuck what I think I know right now. Get it girl.

They step out of the bathtub and around Craig. Kenny stops right behind him out of his line of vision and winks at me, eyeing Craig. Whatever that means.

"C'mon, you're almost there," Red says to Clyde whose still in boxers.

He nods and says, "Sorry," to Craig before yanking down the last article of clothing and pushing past him out of the bathroom. Craig looks disgusted.

"WOO!" Red cheers and follows the brunette.

I watch her until she's gone and then turn back to Craig. "C'mon," he says.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere that isn't a bathroom that smells like puke," Craig says.

I hold my hands out to him, "Help me up." He eyes me, suspiciously. "I'm serious or I could pass out here. I'm really okay with anything that happens." Craig takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

I get dizzy. "What time is it?" I ask him. We're too close right now.

"Around three," he answers with no validation from any type of watch or device.

Shit, already and from the sounds from downstairs and upstairs, the party is still in full swing. "Where's Token?" Craig shrugs. "Where are we going?" No answer. Craig opens a door into a room that could be anyone's. It's big and has a bathroom but I doubt it's the master. I bet all the rooms in this house have a bathroom. It has some jerseys on the wall though and some pictures on the dresser of Token, Clyde, and Craig. So you put together who's room it is.

Regardless, I ask, "Is this Token's room? Why are we in Token's room?" Craig still ignores me.

He heads for the closet and slides the door open. "I'm confused," I state. "Are you coming onto me?" I laugh at my own joke, despite it not being very funny really. "Seriously though," I say, behind the niorette, "What are you doing?"

Craig grabs the dresser in Token's closet and slides that to the side too, revealing a small door. He pushes it open and glances back at me expectantly. That's so fucking cool.

"What if you're taking me somewhere secret to kill me?" Craig rolls his eyes. I notice his face is a tint of pink for the first time. "Are you drunk too?"

"You're drunk?" he asks.

"I know right?" I smile. "I'm probably always drunk," I tell Craig. "Like Stan," I add with a snicker.

"Stan Marsh is a pussy," Craig spits.

"Yeah, I guess," I shrug. "That's not really relevant though," I point out. "Where've you been all night? I was in the kitchen, the living room for a while, and then well, the bathroom for like, hours, I think but I never ran into you and word on street is you were looking for me," I say.

Craig blinks at me with narrowed eyes. "I was in here," he says, pointing to the door.

"Drinking?" I ask. Craig nods. That's cute. "What's in there?"

"Probably beer," he starts.

I nod approvingly, "Mhm,"

"Weed," he continues.

I nod more, "Oh yeah, mhm,"

"And food," he finishes.

"That's great," I tell him. "But you go in first to aid my anxiety."

"You're a pussy just like Stan," he tells me, crouching to go through the little Narnia door.

I follow behind him, if only to stare at his ass this closely. Such an opportunity only presents itself once in a blue moon. This is my time. Thank you, God. Craig has a nice ass in addition to his beautiful face. I point out again how Craig is essentially the full package.

The door is the only thing small. The room opens up. It's just a small room with a couch and a TV and a mini fridge. There's empty beers scattering the floors, a bag of chips on the couch, and a bong next to the sofa. "What is this place?"

Craig shrugs, "Token's hidden room."

"Why? What's it for?"

Another shrug, "He's rich. He can have whatever he wants, that's why." Craig sits on the couch and grabs the bong. "What were you doing in the bathroom with all those people?"

I sit on the other end of the couch and grab a half empty beer, taking a swing and hoping that it was Craig's and not some random person. I regret everything. Fuck it. Who cares? "We were playing drink or dare until Red drank all the fucking rum and then asked Clyde if she can suck his dick. It was gross," I tell him. "Not to mention Wendy was already sucking Kenny's dick in the bathtub. Fucking heteros-" I clap my hand over my mouth and swear.

Craig and I stare at each other for the longest time. Him holding the bong inches from his face and me awkwardly pretending that I'm sipping my beer, repeating _normal conversation_ over and over in my head.

I break the silence with, "Yup," and we both begin to laugh. I can't even be concerned with Craig's laughter because I can't hear it over my own- well, I can hear it. He's laughing very loudly but it blends with mine beautifully.

"Oh wow," Craig says, "Tweek Tweak's _gay_? _What_? _Oh, my God_! _How_?" he says sarcastically. "I'm not retarded. I already fucking knew." We laugh more.

"Yeah?" I say, "Well, I'm fooling everybody else. Plus, you can't blame me. This town's full of homophobes. Gotta watch your back," I tell him.

After the laughing dies down and Craig and I have passed the bong back and forth a few times I ask, "What are we supposed to even do in here?"

Craig puts the bong down and exhales. He shakes his head at me and says, "Try using your 'imagination'." The word is dragged out and he makes an invisible rainbow over his head with his hand.

"My mind is vulgar," I tell him, bluntly. "My imagination holds a lot of…" You know what I just realized? I'm fucking high as shit. I was already high before I got here and I just kept on going and now I'm so fucking high that it's hard to breathe. It's hard to see and I'm hot. My high is enhanced by being drunk, which I am also and I'm in a room alone with Craig and he knows I'm gay now and he's okay with that. And no one really knows where this room is except for (I assume) Clyde and Token and Clyde is presumably fucking Red right now and Token wouldn't come back here, he has to host.

My point is what kind of position am I in to be making decisions right now? I'm in a very risky situation here. A situation where I could get some crazy random boner just because I've been fantasizing about naked Craig the past few days and I'm super drunk and stoned and I feel it everywhere.

"touching," I say, my face heats up. Craig's heavy eyes narrow in a different way than before. He doesn't look suspicious, just something. What the fuck are they doing to me?

"kissing," I continue, swallowing, my throat suddenly feeling dry as a desert. I blink slowly. Craig still watches me.

"licking…" My heart is racing. I can't even hear what I'm saying over the sound of it pounding in my chest. Everything took a turn. I wasn't gonna go this far but Craig's fucking eyes are encouraging me.

"Craig," I say. The niorette hums in acknowledgement. "Are you gay?"

Craig's gaze doesn't falter from mine. I imagine I look like a lion if Craig were a gazelle and I hadn't eaten in days. "I don't know," he admits, with no emotion. "I've never been with a guy- but then, I've never been with a girl either."

So many things are running through my mind. The licking, the unexpected boners, Craig being a virgin is really turning me on right now and maybe it's the liquor but I'm really not scared or worried about this situation.

My only concern, really, is that my mouth probably tastes like shit from all the beer… but I bet Craig's does too.

Leaning forward on my knees I grab the back of the Craig's neck and bring his face into mine.

I can tell he's never kissed anything before. I doubt he's even practice kissed his hand. He would have probably stabbed out my eye with his nose if I hadn't guided his lips to mine. It's like he didn't know that this is how lips fit together.

Eventually Craig kisses me back. When he does, I feel his hand grab my shirt and start to pull. All the heat from my face rushes South and I use my free hand to help myself crawl the length of the couch to be right next to Craig.

At this point he has to let me go to breath- that's cute- but as soon as his mouth is open I go back in on my attack- this time with tongue. I was right he tastes just as gross as I do but the taste of Craig's mouth is an erotic thought.

Unexpected boners become real but at this point it was very expected.

Craig's tongue rubs against mine so cluelessly. I push my mouth to his rougher and he makes a noise. It's just a little noise of surprise but- fuck I want to make him make so many noises.

But Craig is a virgin and very drunk right now, I think.

Regardless, I yank him on top of me.

This shocks him. He stares at me for a while. Probably because I'm hard and Craig's a virgin so he wouldn't know about having hard dicks against his ass- yet. His embarrassed blue eyes are alluring (and my favorite so far). I bring his face back to mine by his chin (because I'm feeling especially like a faggot tonight (blame the alcohol)) and his eyes flutter shut. What is this kid doing to my heart?

The way our spit mixes and the sounds our mouths make are enticing. And every fucking move Craig makes puts pressure against me. I inhale sharply. Craig stops, "Are you…?" he trails off.

I stare at him, confused. "About to come?" I ask. He nods and I snort, "No, asshole, you're just really fucking hot like this and you keep moving and it feels good."

"Oh," he blushes.

"Are you?" I ask with a smirk because I love seeing him like this, though I think it's only because he's drunk, not because he's in this situation and I'm genuinely curious. He is a virgin so he might not last long even with this little stimulation. Seeing Craig come, could make me come though. I'm like ninety percent sure.

Craig shakes his head. "Do you want to?" I ask seriously.

Craig stares at me more. "What do you mean?"

I'm guessing he means what am I gonna do. "I'm gonna make you come. Only if you want me to though. If not, kissing is still cool."

Craig looks conflicted. "What if I don't like it?"

"Then we'll stop and I'll go jack off in the bathroom."

"Uhm," he finally looks away. I won the ultimate staring contest. "I guess. How are you gonna… do it?"

"I'll just use my hand since you're so concerned and inexperienced," I tell him, brushing his chin with my thumb. He flicks me off.

I start to undo his jean buttons and fly. "Sit up for me just a little bit," I tell him. Craig sits up on his knees and I work his jeans down a little bit. It's enough for me to work but Craig promptly moves from my lap, yanks his pants down the rest of the way and kicks them off. He crawls back on me and I lick my lips.

"It's just easier," he says, looking down at me.

"Would anyone come in here?" I ask, inches from his face.

"No," he says softly on my lips.

When our lips meet again, my hand plunges into Craig's boxer briefs. They're just blue and black. I grip him and let my hand linger at first just so he can get adjusted, plus I wanna go slowly so that it's more enjoyable for him.

I draw circles on his tip with my thumb, gently massaging. Craig kind of twitches on me. He kisses me more firmly, swirling his tongue with mine. "Take your pants off too," he says after a long kiss.

I just nod, sliding out of my pants once he's sat up enough for me to do so and then he's back on me, now with less fabric between us. Nothing holding down my erection except him.

He kisses me again and I feel him start to bounce. "Craig," I say strained into the kiss but he doesn't stop. I stroke him slowly. What is happening right now? Am I hallucinating? Did I do shrooms with Kenny? Fuck. I'm probably humping a bush right now. I'll have poison ivy on my dick in the morning.

Craig's breathing gets heavy and he lets go of my face, sits back a little, and starts sucking on my neck, his hand pulling my dick out of my boxers and stroking me in sync with me stroking him.

I gasp, "Shit, Craig,"

Craig moans against my neck.

"Shit, Craig," I moan.

My hand moves faster and I can't focus on anything except him in my hand and his mouth moving on my neck. His teeth gently clamp down on my skin. It sends a shudder through my whole body.

Craig sharply sucks in air and his eyes flutter shut. He's so fucking beautiful. I moan at his face. As quickly as I can I pull his dick out of his boxers so his come won't get onto them. Craig comes onto my shirt instead. I didn't think this through. He sighs and his head rests on my shoulder, breathing heavily. His hand is still pumping my cock but Craig reaching his climax helps to put me at mine.

"I'm coming," I tell him and he pumps faster. My whole body tenses as I come and when it ends every muscle relaxes. I let out slow, deep breaths. "'m so fuckin' tired," I tell him.

Craig doesn't move. "Are you sleeping?" I ask, stroking his hair. Craig's hair is really soft.

"Mhm," he answers even though he says he is and that makes no sense.

"Will anyone come in here tomorrow?" I ask, raking through his hair.

"Prob-ly no," Craig mumbles into my shirt.

"And that's good enough for you?"

"Mhm," he says more aggressively.

"Okay, okay, final question. How do you turn off the lights in here?"

He sighs, "What the fuck do you think? Do you see a light switch?"

"Jesus Christ, calm the fuck down," I clap and the lights turn off. Two minutes later Craig's breathing slows and evens out and two minutes after that I drift into dreamland.

* * *

 _Finally right? I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story so much. I know I enjoy writing it. I really have no idea what I'm doing though if I'm being honest. It all just kind of falls in place. Anyway please review and favorite and junk. Night. Lol what time is it for you? It's eight here in the states wink*_


	8. Very Virgin

**Chapter Track: Sober by Childish Gambino**

A groan wakes me up. There's someone on me and we're in a dark room with no windows. The person stirs on top of me. Who did I sleep with last night? Fuck, I hope it wasn't Wendy. God damn it, my head fucking hurts like shit.

This is the part where I try to remember everything from last night and fail miserably. I know that I smoked with Kenny before and then I don't remember how we actually got to Token's house. I remember drinking a lot and being in a dark room. All I remember after that is something good probably happened.

"Aw, what the fuck," a voice says from my chest. A very distinct nasally voice. My breathing stops. They grumble and clap.

The lights come on and Craig and I stare at each other. He's got bags under his blue eyes. He squints from the light, which I would probably be doing too but my eyes are wide and very scared. I gulp.

"Aw, what the fuck," Craig mumbles, peeling his shirt off of mine. "Do _you_ remember what we did last night?" he asks me. I just shake my head and he rolls his eyes. "We did _something_ …" he mumbles to himself, examining our shirts. "This yours or mine?" he asks, holding his shirt to my face. It's stained with an obvious substance. I just shrug and Craig rolls his eyes again. "Well," he says, "I don't feel penetrated. Do you?" I flush and shake my head roughly. "Good," Craig says.

"I've got a serious fucking migraine," Craig says. He suddenly bounces, "And you've got serious fucking morning wood and it's pressing into my ass," he says, irritably.

"I'm sorry," I squeak. "But that probably isn't helping," I tell him.

He smirks at me, "What? This turn you on?" he whispers. My heart pounds and I blush because Craig picking his nose would probably turn me on. Craig laughs, "Are you serious?"

"Where are we?" I notice I don't know what room in Token's house this is. There's only one door and it's small. It reminds me of Alice in Wonderland.

"Somewhere," Craig says, vaguely. He says it like he's actually helping me too. Like that fucking answers my question.

"What time is it?"

"Probably a time with numbers," he rubs his eyes. I sigh. Craig's hands move away from his eyes so he can look at me. He sighs, mocking me.

I drop my head against the couch. "Oh shit, look what I did," Craig says. I'm about to lift my head again to see what he's talking about but I feel his fingers graze my neck. "Oops," he says.

"You left a hickey?" I ask the ceiling but my eyes close shortly after because Craig is touching my neck and it feels so fucking good.

"Unless you already had one then yeah, I did. And it's out in the open for the whole world to see. Sorry, dude," he doesn't sound very sorry at all. It's probably the only way he could get the word out. "But it's winter so you could probably get away with wearing a scarf or something."

"Just to be clear though," I say, "you're okay with this?"

"With what?" he asks. "Oh- you're morning wood on my ass? It's fine, man. Shit happens."

Fucking weirdo! "No, I mean like, that we did something…"

"I guess? What do you mean?"

"We're both guys!" Craig stares at me clueless. "Are you gay or something?"

Craig shrugs, "I don't know."

What a fucking douche! Why can't he just answer simple questions- wait… what if he really means he doesn't know? "You don't know if you like dick?"

"I don't know if I like vagina either," he adds.

"What the fuck does that even mean, man?!" I grab my hair.

Craig watches my hands and says, "I'm only in high school. I've never really been with a girl before- or a guy," he admits.

I blink at him, "Have you ever woken up with someone like this?"

"Nah, this is a first," he says.

"Should we get dressed or something before someone sees us like this?"

"No one is gonna find us here," Craig tells me like I'm stupid.

The door opens, "Craig, are you awake? It's noon and I need help getting Clyde-"

My head snaps up but Craig's drops dead into my shoulder. I was concerned about Token seeing us but now I'm concerned about Craig being alive. "Craig?" I shake him. "Are you okay? Are you dead? What the fuck happened to you?!" I panic, turning to Token, "I swear he was okay before you walked in. I didn't rape him!"

Token's face is expressionless. "Dude, you're not a fucking possum. Stop playing dead and help me get Clyde out of this tree."

"God- fucking- dammit!" Craig's snaps, flicking off the dark skinned boy. "How did you know I was in here?" he demands.

"You didn't slide the dresser back in place, dumbass,"

"Fuck," Craig pushes himself off of me and grabs his jeans off the ground. "I'm coming!" he snaps at Token. "Just give me a fucking minute."

"Sure. I'm leaving some ibuprofen out here on the bed and there's coffee downstairs," Token says, shutting the door behind him.

"How the fuck does Clyde get stuck in a tree every time we throw a party?" Craig asks. I don't think he's talking to me though. He pulls his jeans from inside out and steps one leg through. He glances at me, "What the fuck are _you_ looking at?"

Your ass. "What are… like what was…uhm,"

"Spit it out, dip-shit!" Craig snaps.

I flinch, "What do we do now?" I spit out. It's cryptic and doesn't really explain much but that's because I don't fucking know what I want to say.

"Well, I usually take some ibuprofen with really black coffee. It helps," he tells me, getting his last leg in his pants and shimmying them all the way up his hips. "You can borrow one of Token's shirts, just like, don't take a fifty dollar name brand obviously."

"I meant because we did stuff,"

"Well," Craig says, stripping his shirt. I swallow, hard. This morning wood is so not morning wood anymore. "What were _you_ hoping from this, mister molesto perv?"

"What? I didn't plan for this to happen when I agreed to come," I tell him.

"Oh, I'm sure," he chuckles, moving towards the door. I jump to my feet, rushing with my pants to follow.

"I wasn't!" I tell him. We leave the room through the small Alice door and are in Token's room now. "I don't even remember how we got in there," I point my thumb towards the closet.

"Okay, Tweek," he says with a smile. "I was kidding, dude." Craig starts rummaging through some drawers on Token's dresser. He pulls out a blue shirt and tosses me a green one. "It just seems fitting," he explains, pulling his shirt over his head.

I yank off my dirty hoodie and pull the shirt over my head. "Are we just gonna go back to how we were?"

"If you want to," he says, popping open the bottle of pills on Token's bed.

No! "What if I d- don't?"

Craig finally stops all his motions to look at me. "Then what do you want, Tweek? To go on a date? I'll fucking kick you in your shin," he threatens. Wow, Kenny was right, which isn't all that surprising actually.

"I just want… to keep kissing you," I bite my lip, hard.

Craig gives me a dirty look and then scoffs, "You don't even remember kissing me," he says, dropping two pills in his hand. "You coming with me to get coffee or what?" he asks after dry swallowing the pills.

"What the fuck kind of excuse is that? I don't have to remember it to know that I want to do it again," I say with no filter. I should be worried and maybe it's my hangover talking but Craig seems weird too and he didn't seem concerned at all that we just woke up covered in our own semen with no recollection of what even went down last night.

Craig sighs and turns towards me, "So, what? You wanna kiss me? Why? If you don't even remember anything we did or said last night why would you still want to kiss me?"

"Because," I say. I didn't have an answer. I know my answer but, dammit, I don't want to say it out loud. Please don't make me say it out loud, Craig. I feel like he knows and he's fucking with me. Can't we just kiss again and then it'll be like me admitting my feelings for him this whole time? Like in the movies. But I refrain, in fear of being kicked or something worse. I swallow.

"What? You're secretly in love with me?" he chuckles, "That's not helping your mister molesto perv case."

"Craig, please," I plead. He stops laughing. "No, I'm not secretly in love with you but I've been paying extra attention to you lately. Not intentionally but it just happened. I can't get you out of my head. It's really a problem. My grades are dropping and shit."

"Holy shit. I was not serious. Are you serious?" I nod. "Okay, what are you gonna do about your feelings?"

I step forward and grab Craig's face and plant one nice good kiss on him. He doesn't fight it and kisses me back which is enough for me to know he's a total fraud and this isn't all one-sided like it seems. I let him go.

He glares at me with the cutest red cheeks and flicks me off. "Do that shit again and I'll fucking end you," he tells me.

"But you kissed back," I point out like an annoying little shit.

"Oh, fucking try me, Tweek. Fucking. _Try_. Me."

"I just did," I say, "and you kissed back."

"Get the fuck out of my face. It's too early for this and I'm fucking hung over. Fuck you." Craig adjusts his hat and with one last dirty look, he's out of the room.

I slap my chest to try to get my heart back on track but it's all over the place. "Fuck," I breathe and then after a few silent minutes I pump my fist in the air victoriously, "Yes!" I hiss.

Downstairs Craig pours himself some coffee. I'm surprised at the lack of bodies. "Do people just leave on their own or does Token have to like, manually kick everyone out?"

Craig shrugs, "Usually everyone's gone by one. Most just crash here and then leave in the morning. Jobs and stuff."

"Do you have a job?" I ask.

"Not yet," he tells me.

"Are you looking for one?" I ask.

"Stop fucking interrogating me," he says, sipping from the mug in his hands cautiously.

I walk over to pour myself a glass as well when two more figures enter the kitchen. "There anymore coffee?" Wendy asks, rubbing her eyes, smearing make up that was already significantly fucked up across her face. Kenny is trailing behind her with a grin plastered on his ugly mug.

"Hey, man," he greets me. "Craig," he mutters a little less enthusiastic.

"Douche sack," Craig retorts. I snort at his unique insult.

"You could _try_ to be civil," Kenny says with a slight glare.

Craig flicks him off, "Just don't address me in the first place because you know I won't be. Fuck you," he tells the blonde.

Kenny mocks Craig in a high pitched, nasally voice. He grabs my mug out of my hand and starts to drink from it. "Thanks," he tells my evil stare. I'm too fucking hung over.

I take Craig's. "Hey, fuck off," Craig tries to take the mug back but I just raise it over my head. He doesn't even attempt to get it because that would probably be embarrassing for him. Still, I was hoping he would because it would be so fucking cute for me. "You're an asshole," Craig tells me, making me feel like a dick.

I guess he _is_ hungover too. I take one large gulp from his coffee and hand it back. I start the coffee machine again. "That's cute," Kenny says.

Craig starts for the door. "Where are you going?" I ask him.

"Help Token with Clyde," he says simply. I just nod.

When Craig's gone Kenny pushes his face into mine. "So," he says, "how was it?"

"What?" I ask.

"You did something with Craig. You had to," he says. "Last night Craig had horny written all over his face and this hickey is fresher than a motherfucker," he pokes my neck. I wave him away.

"We didn't have sex," I tell him.

"But, did you see his dick, is the question," Kenny says, finishing my coffee. Wendy flashes her eyebrows at me, seeming equally as intrigued as Kenny. The coffee machine finishes so I take my mug back from him.

"Apparently," I say to the blonde. I turn towards Wendy, "You want a cup?" She nods holding her head at the bar. "We definitely did something with our dicks but neither of us remembers anything."

"Wendy and I had sex," Kenny tells me. "I made sure she'd remember it too."

I make a face at Kenny, "Wendy used to date Stan," I say.

He nods, "Yeah?"

"And Stan's like your super best friend…"

"No, no, no," Kenny says. "Stan is super best friends with Kyle," he corrects me. I nod. "Kyle's a slut, and no one really likes Cartman all that much but you already probably knew that."

"Well, thanks for clearing up nothing," I tell him, handing Wendy her mug. She groans a thank you.

"The point is, they aren't together anymore and Stan can't tell me what to do," Kenny says.

"I wish Stan _would_ get mad," Wendy snorts. "That asshole doesn't fucking have the right." She stands with her cup. "Kenny, walk me home. Bebe left me because she was jealous I was with you."

"That's hot," Kenny says. "Bye, Tweek."

Once Kenny and Wendy are gone I head out back. Craig and Token are at the base of a tall oak tree. "C'mon, man, I can't call the fire department again. I'm gonna get in trouble," Token tells the boy in the tree.

Craig stands with his arms stretched out, "Just jump, Clyde. I said I got you," he dead pans.

"Yeah, but you're a fucking liar, Craig. You don't even look genuine," Clyde calls. "You're just gonna let me fall so you can laugh."

"I wouldn't do that," Craig assures him.

"How did you get up there anyway?" I ask approaching behind Craig.

"I don't even want to remember how the hell I got up here, Tweek," Clyde says.

"You should jump," I say. "If Craig doesn't get you, I will." I glance at the niorette and then smile at the brunette.

He eyes us suspiciously, "I don't know," he says. "I'm kind of big..."

"Dude, we got you," Craig says. "Just jump."

"Fine, but you better catch me asshole!" Clyde starts to move towards the edge of the branch. "Okay," he says. "I'm gonna jump on three."

"Okay," Craig says rolling his eyes. "I'm ready."

"One..." Clyde says. He leans forward, "two..." Clyde lets go, "three!" He yells.

Craig and I quickly step out of the way. Clyde hits the snow with a thud. We both start to laugh. "Stupid ass," Craig says to the crumbled heap on the ground, rolling around.

"Wow," I say, "I expected some level of stupidity but, Clyde you have well exceeded my expectations. Congratulation, I guess."

"Craig, what the fuck," Token scolds but looks like he's holding back snickers. It only fuels our laughter.

"He's the dumbass that actually thought I would catch him," Craig says in his defense.

"I think he deserved it," I add. One, for him being naive enough to think we would catch him and two, because he's a douchebag anyway.

"I hate you guys," Clyde mumbles on the ground.

"What happen to Red, man?" I kick him lightly.

Clyde rolls on his back to look up at me, "She-" he stops abruptly. "Why are you both wearing Toke's shirts? And why does Craig look like that?"

"Like what?" Token asks, amused.

"Not Craig-like." I hadn't noticed. "Content- or, I don't know. Like he got-" Clyde's eyes flick to me and he gasps. "No, you didn't," he says, pushing himself to his feet. "You asshole," he accuses.

"What are you talking about?" I ask him with a smirk. I grab and squeeze Craig's ass cheek. He sharply inhales, slowly turns around and punches me in the gut. All the air shoots out of me.

"I'm not even gonna tell you not to do that again. Do it again, Tweek. Give me a reason to kill you," Craig says to me coldly but his face is flush red. My smirk returns. I stick my tongue out at him.

"Unbelievable!" Clyde exclaims. He turns to Token and says, "This wouldn't have happened if we were just watching movies!" he points out. "What did you two do?" Clyde glares at me.

"Dude, I'm not gonna get into Craig and my sex life," I say. Though I totally would if Craig weren't right there. I don't really know what we actually did… Hm.

"I found them in the most _provocative_ position this morning," Token informs the idiot. I sigh. Craig rolls his eyes again.

"Craig, you were so innocent," Clyde shakes his head in a disappointed manner.

"Oh, bullshit!" I cry while Craig flips the boys off, proving my point. But it's not completely false. "Well, actually, Craig is still very virgin," I tell them. "If that makes you feel better," I add to Clyde.

"Motherfucker," Craig gives me an evil eye. I shrug like 'what're you gonna do?' He flicks me off.

"That's a relief," Clyde sighs.

"How come?" I ask the brunette.

"I just want Craig to be young and innocent forever. Mostly I just want him safe and sex will give you STD's and then you'll die," Clyde tells Craig sternly.

"Last night you fucked Red in a tree!" Craig argues. "That statement doesn't even make sense!"

"Speaking of which, where is Red?" the brunette asks, looking around.

"Well, I'm hungry," I state.

"Really?" Craig asks. "I think I'm gonna throw up," he tells me.

"It's weird how hangovers work that way, huh?"

"We could all go somewhere since we didn't get to hang out last night like intended," Token suggests.

Clyde gets in his face, "Who's fault is it though, Toke, huh? Who?!"

"Get away from me," Token pushes the brunette away.

Craig sighs, "I'm not leaving the house. I need to take a shower and I'm gonna throw up if I have to smell or even look at food."

"We could still hang out here," Token says.

"Try all you want, Toke, but you'll never make it up to us for your mistakes," Clyde says to Token. He narrows his eyes, "You have a problem, guy."

Token snorts, "What is my problem?"

"You're obsessed with partying, sir," Clyde tells him.

Craig starts to walk away. I turn quickly to follow him. "I'm taking a shower," he says, without looking at me. I continue to follow, "So don't follow me," he shoots me a glare over his shoulder.

I pout, "But I don't even remember seeing your dick last night. Have some compassion, man!" Craig scoffs shaking his head. "Was that like, my only chance? And now it'll never happen again?"

Craig opens the back door and walks in. "You can't leave me in suspense like this. I'll kill myself," I tell him. "I just need to know."

"I'm not psychic!" he snaps, turning around. "I don't know, Tweek," he says. "What I do know is that you're a hell of a good kisser and I want to kiss you again but right now I am not fucking taking a shower with you!" And Craig storms into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.

I could use a wash too. I'll use another bathroom though.

After the shower I come out and everyone's in the kitchen. Craig is sitting at the bar with his head down, Clyde is next to him, and Token's on the other side.

"Craig's decided it's a house day today," Clyde informs me.

"Oh," I say, "Is that why he's not wearing any pants?"

"I even offered him some sweats or gym shorts but he said-"

Craig cuts Token off, mumbling, "Boxers are God's way, Toke. Stop fighting it."

It makes me so happy that both these boys know about something between me and Craig because it means I can go up behind him and rub his back when I ask, "Are you still feeling sick?"

Craig only grunts.

"Just eat some saltines," I say.

"I don't fucking want to eat anything," he says, stubbornly.

"I could make you an egg," I offer. Craig gags. "It helps with hangovers!" I argue."

"Stop talking about food," Craig pleads.

"Well, it's about to start smelling like it because I'm about to make an egg for myself. How about some toast? You should eat something. I could make you green tea. That helps with nausea," I tell him.

Craig sits up and glares at me and then he just puts his head back down, "Just tea," he says.

I smile and give his back one last pat before heading towards the fridge. I make everyone a hangover breakfast: toast, an egg, and a slice of tomato and then I make Craig some tea. I added honey so it'd be sweeter. I don't know if Craig likes sweet things but I just guessed.

We all sit on the couch with our food and watch old cartoons. Craig ends up eating my toast anyway, that bastard and his tea is gone fairly quickly so he must've liked it a lot or hated it a lot.

Once all the foods out of the way (on the coffee table) Craig leans onto my shoulder. I could die and it would be alright. Right now I'm so happy. I rest my head on top of his.

* * *

 _Fluff for your head to rest on. I'd like to think I'm doing a swell job at the weekly posts. Be appreciative. Some people only post in a blue moon ( thinks about story that hasn't been updated in a year and sheds a tear). Review your thoughts and actually you should tell me your favorite song. I'm running out of music. Right now- weird, I know- mine is Love You, Hate You by Keke Palmer..._


	9. Refuse The Boyfriend Status

**Chapter Track: Electric Feel by MGMT**

"I still don't get this," Wendy tells me.

I sigh, "You don't have to fucking get it, just stop moving already."

"People paint portraits of happy people," she says.

"Wendy, I swear to God-"

Craig leans over my shoulder, "I don't know," he says. "There's something about it. I don't think I'd like it if you were smiling." I finally started my painting of Wendy but when she posed I asked her to look unhappy. She hasn't shut up since.

"And what the hell is this?" Wendy gestures to the niorette behind me. "Are you two like a _thing_ now?" her eyes narrow at the boy.

Craig flicks her off. "I'm not a thing. I'm a person, ass-crack."

Wendy gasps while I snicker. "Are you dating or… what?"

"What about you and Kenny?" I ask, trying to change the subject while Craig continues to sort through my paint. "I see you two talking more now." I smack his hands away when he starts moving them out of order. "Don't be a dick," I tell him.

"Kenny and I are whatever," she says. "And it works so whatever."

"So you're fuck-buddies," I say.

"Ew," Craig adds.

"We- We're not… I don't know what we are. We- but I don't care because it _works_. Pay attention," she stutters.

"Stop moving," I retort.

"Go home," Craig adds after me. I give him a look and he just shrugs.

"So you two can make out?" Wendy asks. "Now that's _ew_."

Craig jerks his fist upward and slaps his bicep. I hold back my laugh. "You're both childish," I conclude. "You can move, Wendy. Not like you haven't already but go ahead. I guess I got your face, I'll just improvise the rest."

"Turn her into a dinosaur."

"No, Craig," I say.

"Give me like, better cheek bones," Wendy says.

"Maybe," I tell her.

"Well, I'm gonna go. Kinda over being this third wheel thing. You guys have fun doing whatever you two do," Wendy grabs her stuff and leaves.

"Finally," Craig says. "I fucking hate Wendy."

"Who do you not fucking hate, Craig?" I ask, packing my paints and utensils away.

The question was rhetorical but Craig answers anyway, "I don't hate you," he shoots back immediately.

"Aw gee, I'm- I'm flatter…" I flutter my eyes at him with my hand over my heart and he flicks me off.

It's been a few days and don't get any ideas there hasn't really been a huge development in my relationship with Craig but he's come over a few times now and sometimes we kiss.

"I wanna get a real bed. I hate this bunk," I tell him.

Craig sits next to me, "We should go looking for one."

"Beds are expensive, Craig," I tell him.

"You don't know what we can find."

" _Find_? In South Park?" I look at him.

He's staring at me, "People are having yard sales all the time," he mumbles. God, I fucking hate when he mumbles but when he's looking at me like this it's always okay.

"You're eyes are dilated," I tell him.

"What does that mean?" he asks, holding my gaze.

"Either you find me attractive or it's too bright in here. You do have light blue eyes," I say.

"What does that mean?" he repeats.

"Your eyes don't have a lot of pigment…" I say. "So they're more sensitive to the light," I trail off.

"Your eyes are light too though," he says.

"Are they dilated?"

Craig nods, "I wanna kiss," he tells me.

"Then just kiss me," I say with a chuckle.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do," he says. Craig kisses me.

His kisses are soft and timid so I push his face closer to mine roughly, just to get him going. This is usually how it starts (if Craig initiates the kissing). He loops his fingers into my hair and I just caress his back.

It's a nice kiss- any kiss with Craig is- but it isn't getting my blood pumping which is what I live for so I throw us onto the floor. We weren't very elevated to begin with so it doesn't hurt but Craig glares down at me. I shrug and bring his face back to mine. I swear we'd be on my bed if it weren't a twin and we'd have to climb up a ladder to get to it.

Now that he's lying on top of me there's something. By something I mean that not only are our chests touching but so are our groins. There's nothing popping up though, it's just nice to have him closer.

When Craig mouth trails kisses to my ear and he sucks on my lobe things start to get frisky. I encourage him with my hands landing firmly on his ass. I give it a tender squeeze.

Craig lets out a hot breath on my ear. "Mmm," I say in response. I love how quickly these things heat up.

One of my hands (ONE!) abandons his cheek only to slide up into his shirt and I stroke up his spine with a light touch. Craig moves down my chin to my neck.

The door opens, "I fucking told you, Toke."

Craig sighs. "Hi, guys," Craig says. "Come on in. We're not busy." I'd laugh but this really isn't funny to me. Craig rolls off of me to the side.

This is new as well. The cock blocks. My parents never barge into my room. If my door is locked and I say don't come in, they leave. I'm either smoking or fucking and they probably know this but they don't want to deal with it and why would they? They leave.

But with Craig I also unintentionally got Clyde and Token. Token's fine but Clyde? _Fuck_ , dude. "What's up?" I deadpan.

"Just because you and Craig are…hm, _whatever_ you guys are doesn't mean you get to have him all the time, Tweek," Clyde tells me. "I told you already that if I haven't seen Craig in too long then I'd come over and get him myself."

"And that's what you're doing so," I raise my eyebrows at the brunette. I just wish it wasn't in the middle of our making out time.

"Why are you making out on the ground anyways?" Token asks.

"I can see the judgement, Token," I say.

"Nah, just seems uncomfortable…" he tells me.

"That's why Craig was laying on top of me. I'm a real gentleman, aren't I?" I direct the question towards Craig who pushes my face away. "Sometimes things just happen and if my bed weren't a bunk, dude that's where we'd be right now. I want a mattress that's big and low to the ground. Then, I could just toss Craig on it, no big deal, right? Fucking bunk beds, man."

I know Craig is glaring at me but his face must also be red so whatever. He's not mad. He probably still wants to make out. "Clyde, I'll hang out with you when I hang out with you," Craig says, irritably. See? I was correct.

"But Craig," Clyde whines. "Saturday's are the days we get high and watch stoner comedies…"

"We can do that any time," Craig tells him.

"You two can make out _any_ time," Clyde counters.

"Yeah, but I want to make out right now," Craig says.

I raise my hand, "I second that notion." Craig openly admitting that he wants to make out with me proves that he likes me and Craig's not an open person. Things like that make me so hor- happy. They make me happy. So _happy_.

Clyde frowns, "You're breaking traditions."

"And making new ones," Craig shrugs. "Why don't you try getting a girlfriend, Clyde? That way you won't care so much that I'm hanging with Tweek."

"Oooh, burn," I hiss. I am ignored.

"Toke cares too, ya know…" Clyde mumbles with his arms folded across his chest.

"Really, Toke?" Craig asks.

Token shrugs, "It's alright. You two just started… _seeing each other_?- or whatever. I get that you wanna be together. I don't really have a problem with it. I'm just hanging out with Clyde right now and he's being… well, you know Clyde."

Clyde gasps, "Traitor."

"Let's just play some video games," Token says to the brunette.

"I never said you had to leave Tweek," Clyde says. "Tweek can hang out with us too."

"Okay, then let's hang out tomorrow," Craig suggests. "I'll head over to Toke's later today even, just fucking leave right now."

Clyde lets out a deep sigh, "Fine, whatever," Clyde leaves with one last pointed glare at me and Token waves before following him.

"Great, he's mad," Craig groans. "Clyde's such a little bitch."

"He just cares about you," I say. "Which is fine as long as he stays in his own territory."

Craig snorts, "What?"

"As long as he keeps his hands to himself, okay? Tell me if he doesn't. Maybe you two have already done some shit…" I gasp.

"Ew, Tweek," Craig says. "Clyde is straight, no matter how much he acts like a faggot and I'm not into him like that. Trust me."

I don't trust anyone but I feel like telling Craig this would hurt his feelings or something, like maybe he'd lose trust for me because I don't trust him. I nod anyways but honestly I'm still gonna keep an eye out for Clyde. I don't believe he's gay by any means but who am I to tell? Anyone can like dick and no one here would know it because, I've said it before and I'll say it again, South Park is full of homophobic rednecks. Except Kyle. Kyle is so gay and everybody knows it.

"Do your parents know?" I ask Craig, still on the floor, still staring at the ceiling.

"Know _what_?" Craig asks.

"That you're gay."

"I'm not gay," he tells me. "I told you, I don't know what I am."

This shit again. I sigh, "But you make out with me so doesn't that mean you like guys?"

"We make out. I could make out with anyone. That's not really enough to determine sexuality, I think," he says.

"But I'm pretty sure our dicks have touched," I say. "Like ninety percent sure, almost…"

"Neither of us remembers that," Craig points out. "Doesn't exactly count."

"I feel like you had feelings for me before that even happened though- and right now actually," I turn towards him.

"That's good for you," he shrugs. Asshole.

"What if we did it again?" I ask.

Craig narrows his eyes and turns his head towards me, "If we did _what_ again, Tweek?"

I freeze. I don't know what I'm saying. "What if we just, like did whatever we did that night again?"

"We don't know what we did that night," Craig says to me.

"Yeah, but I mean, I have a pretty good idea. If we didn't have sex, there are only so many options, dude."

Craig's face starts to tint pink. He turns back towards the ceiling. "I don't know… What if I don't like it?"

Whoa, whoa, whoa, déjà vu? "Uhm, then we'll stop, you can leave to Token's, and I'll probably jack off or something."

"What are you gonna do?" he asks.

I sit up, "I'll probably just go with the flow. I don't usually preplan this stuff, I guess." Craig sits up too, "Is that a yes?"

"Fine," Craig says.

"Wait, but _do_ you like me?" I ask. "I'd just feel better if I knew before we started or I'd be thinking about it the whole time plus you're kind of acting like maybe you _don't_ want to do this…? I don't know. I've been told I'm paranoid but rape really isn't something I want on my conscious-"

"God, Tweek," Craig cuts me off. Now his face is red. He sighs, "If I didn't like you I wouldn't kiss you. If I didn't want to do this then I fucking wouldn't be," he mumbles. "I already told you."

I don't know what he means by 'he already told me' but I smile at his answer anyways. "Cool," I say.

Not even four minutes later Craig is pinned to my bed, shirtless and with his jeans unbuttoned and slightly below his waist. My lips attack his ruthlessly because I've been wanting this since I woke up with him on top of me at Token's party. All the other times just never seemed right.

Right now feels so fucking right though.

I trail kisses down his chest. Craig is so warm and red under my lips. I'm pretending he's a strawberry (because I like strawberries). He's sweet like one so it isn't hard. I honestly wish I had some chocolate syrup but then I might not be able to stop myself.

"You taste like candy," I tell the ebony haired boy after dragging my tongue down his abdominal.

His brow furrows, "Thanks?"

"Mmm," I nibble the flesh right above the hem of his boxers. Craig's stomach starts to fall in quicker breaths. I start to suck his skin tenderly.

"Tweek," Craig breathes. I grab the elastic waist of Craig's boxers and start to lower them. "Whoa, okay," Craig says, "This is happening…"

I stop, "Are you sure you wanna do this?" I ask him.

"I have a boner now so yeah, I kind of do. Just… what if my dick is ugly or something?"

I snort, "I'm sure it's fine, Craig. It's just a dick. There aren't like beauty standard," I tell him. "Plus, I've seen it before and didn't seem to have any problems."

"Well," Craig looks away, "I wanna see yours too then," he says, sitting up.

"Really, Craig?" I ask with a smirk. "I don't have a problem showing you my junk if it'll sooth your insecurities but really?"

"Shut up. It's fair," he reasons. I shrug and sit up on my knees to undo my belt. Craig watches me, biting his lip. He shouldn't do that since I'm about to be wielding the mighty Excalibur and he's not wearing pants.

I slip the belt out of my pant loops and throw it off my bed. It hits the floor with a clink. "How do you know you're parents are gonna walk in like Clyde and Token? You didn't even lock the door."

"Don't worry about it. It won't happen." I lean forward and kiss Craig's neck. He leans back on his elbows and I latch my mouth onto his neck. I would go into extensive detail about my parents and why I'm sure they won't walk in on us but I'm just so busy with my mouth on Craig's neck making this hickey and plus, it'll probably be more exciting for him anyways, not knowing whether or not we're safe.

"Don't leave a hickey anywhere someone will see it," he tells me, hand in my hair. "My parents aren't like yours," he explains.

I tug my pants down with one hand, using the other to hold myself over Craig. My boxers ride down with my jeans and I give one last yank and they're below my waist. I continue to pepper kisses along Craig's jaw as his head turns to gaze down towards my now exposed and very erect dick. "Oh," he says, "Nice."

I pick my face up and look at him. "I know what you're doing," I say. Craig just raises an eyebrow. "You're nervous and you're compensating with humor. We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

"But you're man stuff's out and you look like you… _really_ want to," Craig glances down again.

"That's not a good reason," I tell him.

"I already told you I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't want to!" Craig says, grabbing my shirt with one of his hands. "It's not like we're having sex. Yeah, I'm nervous but I want to do this…" he pulls me down to kiss me. "So shuddup," he mumbles against my lips.

"Okay," I say into his mouth. "But I want this to be a good experience for you." I kiss his neck. "I want you to remember it and not because you were traumatized because I like, raped you or something…"

"Completely consensual," Craig breathes against my skin.

I kiss Craig and start to move his already loose jeans down. When they're about mid-thigh I stuff my hand in his boxers and start to stroke him. Craig's eyes shut and he tosses his head to the side. I nuzzle into his hair. Craig's so cute and he's so mine and smells so nice.

I pull Craig's member out of his boxers and slowly move my hand up and down. "Mmm…" Craig shifts under me. I run my hand down his torso and kiss down his neck to his collar bone. This is where I place my hickey. I hope Craig doesn't have to be anywhere shirtless for a while.

I run my tongue over his nipple and Craig shudders. I watch him and stop shortly to snatch his stupid winter hat off his head. I toss it with my belt. "Can I use my mouth?" I ask him. Craig just nods, his eyes still closed.

I tug his pants completely free of his legs and throw it over the edge as well. I take a moment to recognize the fact that Craig Tucker (of my recent fantasies) is naked under me right now. With his hair exposed, among other things and his face contorting every time my hand moves on him. I have him at my whim. Oh Christ, I can't fuck this up but my pants have ridden now to my ankles and I'm so fucking hard it hurts and Craig is so fucking sexy in my hands.

I crawl back on my hands until I'm just about his pelvis. I hold him firmly in my hand and swirl my tongue around his head. Craig makes a strained noise before biting his hand. "You can be loud. My parent's really don't give a shit," I tell him. Craig uses his other hand to flip me off.

I drag my tongue down his shaft. Craig tangles his fingers into my hair. My free hand goes to his hip and my thumb massages circles into his skin. I take all of Craig into my mouth and suck gingerly. Craig pants under me. I take more of him every time my head bobs until Craig's dick is hitting the back of my throat.

Craig's sweaty and out of breath now. He tugs my hair tighter and starts to buck his hips into me. "Tweek," he says. I figure this is his warning that he's about to come. I don't know how I feel about swallowing Craig's spooge yet though. I also don't know how I feel about it all over my bed. Fuck it.

I remove my mouth from him and finish Craig off with my hand. He releases with a sigh and spills all over himself. Once again I find myself wishing my camera weren't in my desk so far away.

With my eyes half lidded and lustful I tell him, "I wanna paint you just like this." Craig says nothing, catching his breath. I drop my weight between Craig's legs and rest my face on his damp abdominal.

After a few minutes of silence I pick my head up slightly, "Are you sleeping?"

"Mmm…" Craig hums.

I snort, sitting up. First I clean Craig off with his boxers, figuring he could just borrow a pair of mine and toss them overboard and then I cover Craig with my comforter and pull up next to him. He flips and rests his head on my shoulder. "It was good," he mumbles. "Still doesn't mean I'm gay…" he adds.

"No, of course not," I say, amused. "You have a really pretty dick, by the way."

Craig shoves his middle finger in my face.

Half an hour into Craig's sleep I get up to piss. When my bladder is relieved I shuffle downstairs. My dad's in the kitchen, making coffee and my mother is sitting on the couch with her feet in a bucket of warm water.

They both look at me once I'm down. "Son," my father greets. My mother gives me a nod.

"Hey, guys," I amble into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of Joe.

"Son, can we talk to you?" My father asks when I have a mug out of the cabinet. I eye him suspiciously.

My mother says, "Richard, do we have to do this now?"

" _Sherry_ , the sooner we address this the better. You- You know how he is." I look between my parents and sip from my mug, patiently.

My mom sighs and pulls her feet out of the water, drying them with a towel. When she's done she enters the kitchen with me and my father.

"What is this about?" I finally ask.

"It's nothing, dear. Your father just has some… _concerns_ ," my mother explains.

"More than usual, you mean?" I ask. My parents give me that look they get when I start acting smart. "Concerns about…?"

"Look, Tweek, you know we treat you like an adult," my dad starts. I nod. "We don't want to baby you because in the real world no one will do that. So, I'll just be blunt." It's one of _these_ conversations but I don't know what about yet. "You know that you're different and that's okay, but it's a severity of being different and in this town there are consequences. Sometimes- Most of the time thing aren't necessarily reasonable in life. You're probably gonna find this to be one of those moments."

"What?" I snap. " _What_ , dad?"

"That Craig boy… I'm not gonna pretend like I know stuff I don't. I really have no evidence so please don't be offended. I know we don't usually talk about this stuff either and… I'd really rather keep it that way but I guess we can start with you're still young so don't think things are gonna be like this forever," he tells me. I first think he means the sucky high school years but then my father says, "You're a teenager so you experiment and stuff and that's okay. I just think you should be open minded that this may just be a phase."

"Oh, my God," I mutter. This isn't happening.

"I know, I know. You have strong feelings. That's normal. I'm just putting it out there."

"Dad," I say.

"I'm not done, Tweek," my father shuts me down, coldly. "The point is," he says. His voice is his strict voice now. The one that scares me. "You can do… _this_ right now but I want you to know that if anyone in the town, especially the Tucker family, if they found out about you and the things you do… however bad you think things are, they will get _so_ much worse," my dad tells me. "I just need you to be cautious. I just need you to lay low. I just need you to-"

"Be normal," I say.

"Tweek," dad says.

"I can't believe you! And mom, how can you let him say this?" My mom stays silent, averting her eyes. "Who fucking cares?! If I'm happy, shouldn't that be all that matters?"

No one says anything. No one looks at me. "I'm just trying to protect _you_ , Tweek," my dad tells me.

"I want you to be happy," my mother says. "But honey, this isn't a joke. There's a reason no one is… _out_ in South Park."

I scoff, "What about Garrison? And- and Mr. Slave?"

"Tweek, they moved to San Fan years ago," my dad says. "It wasn't just a spur of the moment kind of thing! I just wish you would listen to us some times!"

"Really? Because I just wish you would love me because _I'm your fucking son_ sometimes," I storm upstairs and into my room.

I was about to slam the door when I remembered that Craig was still sleeping. So I close it quietly and click the lock in place. I climb the ladder and crawl back into my bed next to the niorette.

Even more to think about. Fuck.

Craig suddenly shoots up, panting hard. "Fuck," he mumbles. He glances at me and I give him wide eyes.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says.

"Nightmare?"

"Yeah," he says.

"What was it?"

"Nothing," he says. "It happens all the time."

"Well, shit, you're out of breath. You sure it was nothing? What happened?"

"I've had worse," he tells me.

"About what?"

"In this one, you cut off my arms and stabbed me in the eye," he says. "But the worse was one where there was a massacre of everyone in town. They were all dead and their bodies were scattered all over the streets. A lot of people were decapitated. Their limbs started crawling around and trying to suffocate me. It doesn't sound bad but in a dream you don't know that it isn't real so it was terrifying. Plus, I was in like sixth grade."

"God," I say. "That's morbid." Reasons why I don't sleep. "You want me to hold you?" I hold my arms open for him. Craig flicks me off but leans into my hold anyway.

"Hey Craig," I say into his hair.

"Hm?" Craig hums.

"Are we dating?" I ask.

Craig says, "No. I would never date anyone. Dates are fucking stupid. Where are we supposed to go on a date in South Park? And I don't mean we like you and me. I mean _we_ in general."

"Okay…" I say. "Are we boyfriends?"

Craig scoffs and a piece of my heart shatters and falls. He simply says, "No."

I have no more questions.

* * *

 _So much love! Well, I love you too c: I listen to loads of different music so I try to reach all of them so you'll like/know at least one but it's also supposed to go with the chapter so I might not. Anyway, going on vaca next week. I might post the day before I leave_ _…_ _but depends on progress and reviews so review and fav and junk- or don't, honestly do whatever you want. btw this song is my absolute shit so if you haven't heard it, dammit you better fucking listen to it._


	10. James 4:12

**Chapter Track: Wonderwall by Oasis**

"Okay, I wasn't gonna say anything but this is too fucking weird," Kenny blurts out.

I can't be mad at him. He's totally right. Everything about this is weird but mostly awkward. I bet he couldn't even bring himself to say the word. How this essentially happened is beyond me as well. I don't think any of us would do this intentionally but Craig and I sat together at lunch so Clyde and Token sat with him and Wendy and Kenny sat with me

"Well, it's not that weird," Token says. "It's not like we don't know each other. We've all lived in this town for years."

"Everyone is staring too," Clyde says.

"Who gives a shit?" Wendy asks. Kenny throws his arm over her shoulder and she cozies up to him. Wendy has slowly been changing, I've noticed. I guess I already noticed but since she's been sleeping with Kenny, the effects have been significantly more drastic. Her hair is in a messy bun, she wears dark make up, and cut up crop tops. I like it and Kenny's a nice guy. I'm not worried about it. Even if he weren't a good guy I still wouldn't worry because the fact of the matter is I don't give a fuck and I'm too wrapped up in my own shit to care about anyone else – except Craig because, let's face it, Craig is fucking hot and as it would turn out can give amazing head. He does this thing with his teeth when I'm about to come that's just amazing. Just thinking about it makes me wanna-

"Tweek, wake up!" Wendy shouts while Craig snaps in my face, boredly. "God, what are you always thinking about?"

Kenny snorts, "I have an idea," he says. Everyone snickers. Craig flicks them off. He's right- half right- when I'm not thinking about Craig, I'm thinking about- well, okay, it's related to him too but what my parents said to me the other night. I haven't really talked to them since. Only in the 'I have to talk to you because we live together and you're my parents' way but only my mom and very briefly.

Honestly, I'm not hurt by what they said- no, wait, I am but I'm more upset over them being right about the whole thing. It worries me but I'm too scared about what would happen if I did anything about it. None of my options seem viable. I try not to think about it which ultimately leads to me thinking about it excessively.

"What, Wendy?" I poke at my broccoli with my plastic spork.

"Jeez," she says, "What died in your tulips?"

"Nothing, I'm just not feeling good," I lie. Kenny and Clyde start a conversation about sports that excludes Wendy, Craig, and I for obvious reasons but surprisingly Wendy gets investing into the conversation. Her knowledge of sports probably has something to do with Stan. So it's just me and Craig, stereotypically.

I should just let this all go. I'm only in high school. I shouldn't be worrying about these things and anyway, what if my dad's right? What if this all just is a phase? Maybe I'll grow up and marry some girl to move to the city with and then settle down. I grimace. God, I hope not. But maybe. It'd be a hell of a lot easier to have kids that way at least.

I feel Craig nudge me and glance at him. He's staring at me. He's wondering if I'm really okay or if I just said that because I hate Wendy and I wanna tell him that _I_ don't hate Wendy, he does but he probably already knows what I'd say before I said it from the look on my face.

I look back to my food. It's very unappealing. I'm not even hungry.

Craig nudges me again. I drop my fork and turn towards him, "What?" He flicks me off. "I'm sorry," I apologize for my harsh tone. "What did you need?"

"Walk me home today," he says.

"Why?" Clyde suddenly intervenes. "Just let us drive you."

"I wanna walk. Fuck off, Clyde," Craig tells the boy. Clyde pouts and puts his taco down. Kenny snickers behind his hand. I notice his other hand that was on Wendy's shoulder has drifted to her ass and gag. I'm also envious that I can't be that affectionate with Craig right now. He's fucking sitting right next to me and all I can do is bump his thigh occasionally.

"We can walk with you," Clyde suggests.

"Dude, let them be a couple- shit," Token says.

Clyde looks hurts and Kenny starts laughing out loud. Wendy even cracks a smile. "Better than cable, eh babe?" Wendy sh's him.

"Walk me home," Craig repeats.

I shrug, "Yes, princess," I tell him. When I glance at him he's staring again. He's pissed off that I called him princess. I don't know what he expects when he's always so demanding. Usually when he gets this face I kiss him but fucking hell, we're in the cafeteria. We'll have to find an alley later for sure.

I bump his shoulder with mine, "Hey, lighten up, you're so much prettier when you smile," I say. Craig doesn't falter. "Will your parents be home?" I ask seductively.

"No, but my sister will be so fuck you," Craig tells me. He probably doesn't know that that actually kind of hurt my feelings- yeah he does.

"Can you not flirt while I'm trying to eat?" Clyde asks.

"You're just salty because Craig's finally got a real boyfriend so no more fucking you when he's lonesome," Kenny cackles.

"Who the fuck invited you to sit here, McCormick?" Craig asks the blonde. I sigh.

"I sit wherever the hell I wanna sit, _Tucker_ ," Kenny shoots back with a smirk.

"Every time you open your mouth I wanna sock you in your ugly ass face," Craig says.

"You guys didn't actually fuck… right?" I ask.

"That's a shame because every time you open your mouth I just wanna stick my tongue in that pretty little face of yours," Kenny tells the niorette, leaning forward on the table. "Really, Craig," he says. "You're so pretty. You sure you don't yell at me because you're secretly in love with me?"

"Kenny, please, he's my… _whatever we are_."

"Oh no," Clyde says. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Maybe.

Craig growls. "You're disgusting. You wanna try taking a shower sometime, poor boy?"

"Only if you take it with me," Kenny purrs.

"Kenny, stop provoking him!" I whine.

Craig's turning red but he's not embarrassed. He quickly sits up, reaching over the table to grab Kenny's collar and he's about to slam his fist into the blonde's face when I grab both his arms and pin them behind his back. "Get the hell off of me, Tweek. I'll fucking hit you too," Craig promises.

"Let's go to the smoker's alley. Are you out of smokes?"

"Tweek," he growls. Kenny sticks his tongue out and Craig lunges forward but I hold him back tighter. I start to move Craig out of the lunch room.

As soon as I come around the alley's corner and there's no one there I pin the shorter boy to the wall with my lips. We kiss for a long time. I forget where we even are until somebody clears their throats.

When I detach myself from Craig and turn with wide eyes it's the goths. Michael says, "Pete, you owe me ten bucks." Henrietta takes a drag from her cigarette.

"Where am I supposed to get ten dollars? I'm broke, dude," Pete tells Michael.

Michael says, "You could just suck my dick and we'll call it square."

Pete sighs, "You're a fucking asshole."

They take their places on the wall next to us and I let Craig out of my arms. "I fucking hate Kenny," he grumbles, running his hand through his hair, knocking off his hat and grabbing it with the other hand. "And I don't have any more fucking cigarettes!" He hits the wall with his fist.

"Craig," I whine, taking his hand. It's red.

"Here, assholes," Henriette tosses a box of cigarettes at me and I luckily catch it. There's one left. "You owe me," she tells Craig.

"What, do I have to suck _your_ dick?" he mumbles.

"Don't tempt me, bitch," Henriette retorts.

I snort and hand Craig a lighter. He lights his cigarette and starts smoking. "I don't care if you hate Kenny. You don't have to hit him. I don't hit Clyde."

"That's different."

I scoff, "No, it fucking isn't because I hate Clyde and he's constantly pestering me."

"Yeah, well, Kenny was _pestering_ me," Craig tells me.

"That's bullshit. He was just joking around. You took it too serious," I say.

"Because I hate him so he shouldn't joke about me."

"The only reason I can think of for you getting so worked up is if it were true. Is it? I don't care if you did as long as you aren't anymore." I'd probably still care even if they aren't anymore actually but I won't say that. I just want to know.

Craig pushes me away from him. "I didn't sleep with Clyde, you dick," he says. "I already told you I didn't so I fucking didn't! Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't know," I say. "You two are just so close and Clyde acts so jealous all the time. Sometimes it's like he likes you."

"Clyde's head over heels for Red so don't worry about it so much. Is that what you've been stressed about lately?" I stare at the wall behind Craig. "I know you are. You've been like this since that day I stayed at your house," he says. "You always zone out and you just seem really unhappy… Is it me?"

"Oh, my God, Craig, no!" I grab the boy in my arms. "Shut the hell up. It's not you. It's just my parents."

"Oh," he says. "What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," I tell him.

"Is it because the goths' are watching us?"

I glance at the four kids to our left. All of their eyes fixed on us. "Yeah, a little bit…"

"Tell me when we walk home then."

"If Clyde doesn't fucking trail us."

"He won't."

"Sure," I say.

"He won't," Craig repeats.

"Okay," I say. The bell rings and I let the boy go again. "Can we kiss again before class and stuff?" I ask. Craig grabs my face and gives me one last good kiss before four more hours of hell. "I'll see you later," I say. Craig just nods and leaves.

I turn towards the kids in black, not making any type of effort to go to class. "You guys aren't gonna tell anyone about this right? I don't need to like, bribe you or anything?"

They blink at me, exhaling smoke. "Nobody gives a shit about your soap-opera conformist love life, freak." Firkle assures me.

"Good," I say. "Thanks," I add as I'm walking away.

* * *

The end of the day finally rolls around and I meet Craig at his locker. "You ready?" Craig nods, shutting his locker.

"You better take care of Craig, Tweek. He better show up to school tomorrow- no exception!"

I scowl at Clyde, "Shut up, dick hole. Craig's fully capable of taking care of himself." Clyde glares at me. "That's right, I'm done playing nice! Suck my nuts, douche-wipe!"

Craig groans, "C'mon," he grabs my arm.

Craig and I walk for a while without saying anything. I wanna hold his hand a lot but I know better. I wonder how Craig feels about someone not in our circle of friends finding out about us. I know the goths did and he seemed fine but I don't think that really counts because I was fine too but if it had been a teacher I think I would have had a panic attack.

"What happened with your parents?" Craig asks, breaking the silence.

What if I tell Craig and he has the same reaction as me? What if his is worse because he knows it's right? What if he breaks up with me because he doesn't want to drag this out? What if this is just a phase for him but he already knows it is? I don't even know if Craig's gay. Every time I ask he says no but that doesn't explain anything for something, I think deserves a lot of explaining. Sexuality is complicated and I don't think Craig has a clue what he's doing. I also think he knows more than he's letting on and he just doesn't want to admit anything.

Because saying stuff out loud is scary. It makes it real.

"Um," I look at my feet. I should get boots like Craig. I don't think they would get holes and my converse are almost unwearable at this point. "They just- Well, they lectured me about being in a relationship with a boy," I tell him. I figure if I'm just really vague. He won't freak out as much. "It just freaked me out a little bit."

"That's all?" he asks. "Seems like there was more."

I shake my head, "My dad said this was probably just a phase and I should be careful because this town is full of homophobes."

"He's not wrong."

"I know. That's why it freaked me out but I don't want to not be with you because of that." I watch Craig with cautious eyes but it's useless. I won't know what he's thinking unless he wants me to. "I think I'd rather be with you and deal with someone finding out than not being with you at all, you know?" Craig remains silent. "Uhm," I look back to my feet.

"Tweek," he says.

 _Why don't we just break up?_ Just say it already. I shouldn't have said anything. I should've pretended to be fine, dammit… "Yeah, Craig?"

"Why do you like me so much?"

I stop walking and stare at him. Craig stops a few steps ahead of me when he notices I stopped. "What?" I say.

"Just, shouldn't you be like, wanting to break up because of all that shit? You're so worried about it but you still want to be with me. I'm not that great and we've only been together for a few weeks."

"To break up, we'd have to be together," I point out.

"We're together right now," Craig says.

"You know what I mean, smartass."

"Why do I have to say it for it to be official? You suck my dick and I suck yours so aren't we?"

My cheeks heat up, "Well, Wendy probably sucks Kenny's dick but they aren't _together_ …"

"They aren't? What the hell…" Craig mutters. "I don't know then because I won't say it."

"Why not?"

"It's fucking embarrassing and I shouldn't have to. I basically already did so isn't that enough?"

"I like seeing you blush so I don't think it is," I tell him honestly. "Plus, hearing you say, 'Oh, Tweek, I'm so head over heels for you it hurts my very being' would probably make me so happy I'd die."

"I'd never say it anyway but I don't want you to die either so, there, I'm not saying it."

"Then I won't tell you why I like you," I shrug. It gets quiet again.

I can't lie. I'm happy Craig even said what he did. He implied that we were together. That is enough but I just wanna hear it. "We're together," Craig mumbles quickly. "Okay?" he says, "It's official."

I smile to myself. "As soon as we're alone I'm gonna kiss you for that."

"Don't bother. I don't wanna kiss you anymore."

"Bastard, yes you do!"

Craig rolls his eyes. "Yeah… We should've gone to your house. Anyway, answer my question."

"I like you because you're charming."

Craig scoffs, "I'm not charming."

"Yeah, you kind of are in a weird way and you're my type. You're eyes are pretty and you've got such a nice ass but besides your appearance you're just as weird as I am. Actually I think you're weirder than me and you treat me like a person and that doesn't happen all the time. You're kind of perfect but in a flawed kind of way that makes it even better. I don't know, whenever I'm with you I want you naked and I wanna be inside you but you're cool to just hang out with too and smart. You're funny." I count things off in my head.

"There's a lot more but my head's all scrambled right now, I-" I blink. Craig's face is red. This time it isn't from anger. "Aw, you're blushing! I made you blush from just talking about how I feel about you!" I can't help it when I grab his hands. He tries to pull them away but I snatch one back and kiss it. Craig just gets more flustered (which was the point) and runs ahead. We've made it to his house. "You're so fucking cute too."

The door opens and we stop.

It's Craig's little sister. Her name slips my mind until Craig says, "Ruby," He tries to say it in a nonchalant kind of way but we both know if she was standing there the whole time she probably saw me grab Craig's hands and call him cute.

"What the hell, Craig?" she says. "I should have known you're a fag."

"It's not like that," I try. Craig's head tilts down, so I stop.

"Is that why you stopped going to church? So you could give yourself to the devil instead?" Ruby starts lecturing. Most of the stuff she says doesn't really make sense to me, though, I guess that's why I'm not religious. "Are you listening to me?! Oh, mom and dad are gonna go fucking berserk…" She shakes her head. "If a man lies with a man than it's detestable and they must be put to death! You know this! You're going to hell!"

"Really, Ruby? It's the fucking twenty-first century. " Craig says. "I'm not gonna die because I kiss a boy. If we're really quoting bible scriptures, you're not God so who are you to judge your neighbor? _You_ know this."

"Bull. Shit," Ruby declares. "You're my brother, not my neighbor. When mom and dad disown you, you won't be my brother anymore though."

"The bible doesn't really say anything negative about being gay," Craig says. "The fucking pastor does. The bible doesn't condom it but God says love everyone and don't judge. You're not fucking God, Ruby. You never met him. You don't know what he thinks."

"BULL. SHIT," Ruby repeats louder and drags out. "That's why we go to church!"

"It's not bullshit, it's the truth, you hypocrite. The bible's completely outdated anyways. You love lobster! Abo-mi-nation."

"FUCK YOU," she spits and then scoffs, "Fuck you," she repeats. "You don't get to call me an abomination, you fuck _boys_! You're a faggot. You can try to reason it in your head all you fucking want but we both know that God hates you and him," she nods towards me, "and all the disgusting shit you two do together."

Craig huffs and shoves Ruby roughly to the floor. "Go home, Tweek," he mumbles, stepping inside and slamming the door.

I stand on the Tucker's porch speechless. The only thing that gets me to leave is not knowing when Craig's parents get home and I'd really hate to run into them if that's their daughter.

The walk home is slow because right now I could use comforting but I don't have any friends, I don't think Craig's a good candidate right now and I fucking hate my parents. It makes the situation so much worse.

I could try Wendy or Kenny but I don't think Wendy would have the right response. By that I mean, what I require to feel better right now. She'd just piss me off and I can't handle any more right now. Kenny might work but after what he said to Craig, I don't really wanna see him either. What I need is some bud, calming music, and a blank canvas.

I don't know how I didn't know the Tucker's were a religious family. No wonder Craig denies his sexuality. Maybe he doesn't want it to be true. I wonder what his parents would say. It would probably be worse than his sister. Will she actually tell them? I bet Craig is begging her not to right now. No, Craig doesn't beg (as far as I know (sex doesn't count either (wink))). He's probably just trying to convince her not to. What if he's telling her he doesn't actually like me or we aren't together? Maybe he's telling her that I'm gay but he isn't and we're just close friends like that. But the most realistic option is that they're fighting right now. Probably with fists. The way Craig pushed her, I could tell they probably fight a lot.

Somehow it all hurts to think about so I'm gonna try not to.

At home I lock myself in my room with my bong and some band that my grandparents probably listened to while they got high when my parents were younger than I am. What simpler times. Not being born was the best.

I blow smoke out my window. The wind is strong. Break is next week. I'm excited and scared a little bit. I'm excited to have all that time to hang out with Craig but I'm scared because what if he doesn't want to hang out with me? Maybe I shouldn't have told him I wanted to be inside him. It just felt like the right thing to say at the time and I wasn't lying… Still, Tweek, did that even sound appropriate? What about Craig _is_ appropriate?!

This fucking sucks.

God, it's so gross but my dad was right. Could Craig and I even _make_ this work? I just never thought about it before but now I fucking can't not think about it.

I run my hand through my hair over and over again. What the hell was I thinking? Trying to get a _real_ boyfriend. I was thinking, 'wow, he's cute'. That's fucking it but Craig's amazing but his family is super religious so, what if they find out? What would even happen? Would they disown him, kick him out, move him away, boarding school, or they could even hit him. They could hurt him really bad. Mentally and physically.

My jaw tightens.

Would it be easier to break up with him?- No, _safer_?

Oh, God, this weed isn't helping me at all. I take deep breaths but they don't help because of how fast they are. I stick my head out of my window in the cold air and it oddly helps because the air is so thin.

When I'm done I just watch the snow for a while and question my mortality. As one does.

I should just talk to Craig.

* * *

 _Finally figuring out what I'm gonna do for this story like **0** anyway, babes, thanks for the love. School sucks. yep. but here we go. Diving into another year of hell on earth. Are you ready? I am not. LET'S GOOOOOO ps fucking love this song_


	11. A Little Too Vibrant

**Chapter Track: Arms by Christina Perry**

"Anyway, her jugs were huge, man! Like triple D XL or something and she was totally into me. She probably thought I was like twenty or something and I just went with it. Older chicks are so much better than these high school girls. They know what they're doing and they even feel better like inside and shit. Wendy's pretty good but let's be honest, she's got a golden V card even though we've fucked like eight times and I'm pretty sure she let Stan smash a few times-" Kenny pauses, "Tweek, are you okay?"

Okay.

Okay?

 _OKAY_.

The thermos in my hands shakes with the rest of my body. My eyes rise to Kenny's deep blue ones. They're worried. _I'm_ worried. I can't fucking think straight and I can't stop shaking! My craving for coffee is unsustainable but I know if there isn't hot brown liquid in my hands I'm gonna lose my fucking shit. Why couldn't I convince my parents to let me stay home today? Why did I have to run out of weed _today_? Why can't the school offer coffee in vending machines or SOMETHING! "Dammit," I mumble, scratching my head. Did I shower this morning? Why can't I remember? Was I high? I don't know, I don't remember. "Fuck, Kenny, I'm _fine_."

"You don't look and or sound fine. You want me to get Craig-y for you?"

"No!" I snap and then shake my head. "It's fine. It's fine."

"Is it something with Craig?" I shake my head but Kenny would know. "Dude, maybe you should go to the nurse or something…"

If I went to the nurse she'd shove pills down my throat and for some reason I imagine myself suffocating and dying in the office anyways. I don't want to be a zombie. I want to be with Craig but he doesn't want to be with me and I respect his boundaries. Yep, I do. I can do that because I'm not selfish and Craig's happiness is my priority.

 _So, then, I should break up with him so he won't be stressed about his family and sexuality all the time._

"Gah! Shut up!" I grab my hair.

Kenny stares at me, along with some kids walking by. Oh no, did I just _gah_? I haven't done that since elementary school. I need a bong or a drink or something. I can't do this now. Not today. Not ever. I should just leave or- or something! "Is there any way I can help you, Tweek?"

My face heats up, "Why would I need _help_?! I don't need help- from you or anyone else! I'm fucking fine, Kenny. Leave it." I growl at the boy so close to his face.

Kenny backs off, "If you need me, just call, man… I'm sorry."

Great, now even more kids are staring and I feel like a dick. But Kenny shouldn't have gone there. _Help_? I scoff. I don't need help because I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm normal just weird. I'm just weird and I'm not scared to let my freak flag fly rainbow.

Fucking rainbows.

I slam my locker shut and then smack my forehead on the door. It hurts but at least it's something.

Craig is not at his locker. Yesterday, we walked home together and his sister kind of found out we were together. _WERE_? Aren't we still? "Fuck." I smack my forehead against the metal again. He said we were together and that he liked me but then his sister went all religious on him and he got mad and slammed the door in my face. I still don't know if she told his parents or not but Craig's not at his locker. I'd be more worried if Clyde and Token were but they aren't either.

I know he must be avoiding me.

I was so stressed I smoked all my weed and then passed out so I was late today. I left enough time for Craig to get to his locker and then book it before I could catch him, though I don't know if I would anyways because I'm scared he'll break up with me but more scared I'll say something stupid and break up with him because SHOULDN'T I? God, trying to do the right thing when it's something you really don't want to do is so fucking stupid.

I'm stupid.

"Dammit," I smack my head for the third time. It hurts.

Psh, Kenny says I need help. Fuck Kenny. He's the one who's gonna need help when Wendy finds out he cheated on her with some old lady. I know that Kenny thinks they aren't dating and Wendy says they aren't but she's totally head over heels for him. It's painfully obvious too. I know Kenny knows. That's probably why he did it in the first place. They'll probably fight over his commitment issues and Stan and then sleep together and become an official couple that everyone knows about and be lovey dovey at school.

I wish my life was that simple.

One glance down the hall and I'm about to smack my forehead again (it probably has a big red bump now but who cares enough?) when I double take. I drop my thermos (luckily closed). I scramble to pick it up, all while watching the niorette, accompanied with his usual Token and Clyde. He looks like nothing.

For some reason seeing Craig so calm and collected while I've been having this- this _attack_ about _him_ makes me furious, relieved, and so many fucking emotions that I explode inside. "GAH!" I squeeze my eyes shut and smack my whole face into my locker. It hurts but allows me to take a deep breath and get Craig's face out of my head. Emotionless. But he's not! He does feel. He was mad yesterday when Ruby insulted him and embarrassed when I said I wanted to be inside him. "JESUS!" Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

How can you _not_ think?

Think about happy places. Think about your lake. Think about running water and cool breezes. Horses- no wait, I'm scared of horses. God, _fuck_ horses. Flowers and the sun. Craig and- no wait, not him. No, no, no. I take another deep breath. I'm thinking too fast. I should really meditate. I don't know how to meditate. I quickly unscrew my thermos and chug some coffee but it mostly has the opposite effect because I don't have a lot left and it gives me more anxiety to drink it because what will I do when it's gone? This is terrible. I'm gonna-

"Tweek," someone says.

"Drown," I'm gonna drown and I'm not even in the nurse's office. They're gonna fucking send me off. This is all Craig's fault.

"What?" I turn towards Wendy but I don't say anything because I don't know what to say or maybe I forgot how to speak. I hate when that happens. "Oh, Tweek," she says. "Are you okay?"

I glance behind Wendy, across the hall where Craig's in his locker with his back towards me. He didn't even say hi. He saw me drop my thermos and everything so why didn't he say hi. I don't want to say I'm a mess but- fuck, I _am_ and he didn't even say hi!

"Tweek?" Wendy says.

I look at her and shake my head, "I can't breathe," I tell her.

Wendy takes my wrist and drags me out of the building. We end up in the smoking alley. The goths are there. "Just focus on breathing. I could try to get you a paper bag if you need it." I shake my head. "Why are you having a panic attack? Why wasn't Craig helping you? Did something happen?"

"I don't know. I don't' know. I- I didn't know if it was a big deal but this- he didn't say hi so does he- _ng_ \- hate me now?" I cover my face. "I- I d- don't know what to do because I don't know what he wants…"

"He-" The bell rings and Wendy looks at me concerned. Wendy has to get to class because Wendy gets straight A's and she probably wants to catch Kenny before school starts if she hasn't already and I don't think she has. I think she would know right away that Kenny slept with someone else which he hasn't been doing since Wendy and him started sleeping together. This was probably a test.

"Just go. I have attacks all the time. I'm f- fine." I'm lying and it's worse that Wendy can't tell or doesn't care- probably the latter.

"Do you need anything though?" she asks.

I look at her, "I really need more coffee but-"

"They let me in the teacher's lounge. I'll get you some and bring it to you after class."

"Thank you, Wendy."

"No problem, Tweek," she pats my shoulder with a smile and rushes off to class.

* * *

I ran out of coffee. Even though Wendy got me a backup, it was gone within one class period. And I know- I know, this is no big deal, I'm just paranoid but fuck I'm _fucking_ _paranoid_. It's crazy. Dude, _I'm_ crazy. And you know what else? I fucking hate this class period. I hate it because it's only class I have with Cartman and even though I have seven classes and I'm in school eight hours all together. It's only this class that feels like an eternity in hell. All because this fat fucking demon is in here with me.

I swear Cartman makes it his soul purpose to ruin my life. He does a pretty good job for only forty-five minutes but today is not a good day to push my buttons. He keeps tapping his pencil and I don't even know if it's intentional but it's driving me crazy. It's like this clock we used to have. Whenever the house was really quiet, all you could hear was it ticking, ticking, ticking, and finally I smashed it into the pavement and put it right in the driveway so my mom would run it over.

My parents were upset but they got over it.

I start politely by whispering through clenched teeth, "Stop tapping your pencil." Very civil, I think. Cartman glances back at me like I'm some kind of sickly bacteria. If I were, I'd fucking kill him with disease. He turns back around and taps faster. I feel my shakes increasing and my face gets hot. I know I can't tell the teacher because the teacher in this class hates me too. He hates Cartman as well but I think he hates me more.

It kinda dons on me in a quick and relieving moment that I could always walk out. No one really ever sees me anyway and it gets me out of this deathly situation and then Cartman says, "Make me, faggot." My eye twitches once and I can literally feel one of my brain nerves snap before I black out.

Next thing I know Cartman and I are wrestling on the floor. This time though, I'm on top beating the shit out of him. I didn't even have to bite. "I told you to shut the fuck up!" I scream. "I'm so fucking sick of you messing with me!" Three boys have to drag me away from the overweight beast bleeding and crying on the floor. I spit on him on the way out. I feel like I could've killed him so it's good they didn't let me do that.

My parents will be disappointed and the nurse is gonna give me medicine so I let my head drop as they carry me out of the room. Pleasantly, though, the whole thing makes me feel a bit tranquil. I guess I've relieved some stress and anger and just feelings which is good. It's too bad Cartman had to be the punching bag. For Cartman, I mean. Whatever.

I'm a little confused to find myself in the principal's office. I haven't been in here in so long and I know you find that hard to believe but they just stopped sending me after a while. It kind of seemed pointless. Like, 'hey, how's it going? We just had this talk like a week ago so… I guess just wait for your parents in the office, medication, and counseling, blah, blah, blah…'

In the principal's office it's quiet for a long time before she speaks, "Tweek, this is the second disturbance you've had this month…"

"I know," I say, "but, Cartman, he just- he always messes with me-"

"Tweek," she says. "Did you see what you did to that boy? I understand your position but with the damage, I'm sorry to say that you're going to be suspended and Cartman isn't. You're lucky you both weren't last week but you put him in the hospital."

"Suspended?! What kind of bullshit is- He went to the hospital?" What a pussy. He wasn't hurt that bad…

"Yes, Tweek, I suspect you broke his nose. I wouldn't be surprised if you broke his jaw with the way you had him looking. Jesus," she says, writing on a referral. "I'm sending you to the nurse for your medication and then to the counselor."

"How long was I whamming on him?"

"Tweek," she says.

"Seriously," I reply.

Her eyebrows knit together, "You really don't know?" she asks. "Do you remember hitting him at all?"

I nod, "It didn't seem that long."

"They struggled to pull you away for over ten minutes, Tweek. After they got you off, you slipped by and attacked him again… Are you-"

"Oh yeah, I remember all of that. Okay, well, I better be seeing the nurse now for medication and all the other stuff. Bye," I push myself to my feet and rush out of the office.

Creepy, creepy, creepy. All I remember is being pulled off of Cartman after like a minute and that's it. Where did the rest of my memory go? That's concerning especially if I was hurting someone and couldn't stop myself.

I take my medication with the nurse and trudge to the counselor. I stop dead in my tracks. A pair of blue eyes land on me with no expression. Nothing! He feels nothing! He doesn't even care and here I am kicking Cartman's ass and- and.- "FOR _WHAT_?!" I groan and grab my hair. The pills haven't kicked in yet. And ironically, I really wish they would. That way, I could be just as apathetic as Craig seems to be.

Craig motions for me. I've been demoted to a dog now. I glare and walk over. "Sit down. I think we should talk." That's what my dad said when he lectured me about being gay but I sit down. My words are taken from me because Craig is so terrifying right now I've lost my words. "About yesterday," he says. "You shouldn't worry about it. Ruby didn't tell our parents either so just forget it ever happened."

"But, Craig," I start.

"Ruby's just brainwashed and retarded. I don't care about what she thinks," he says.

"Craig, what about your family?" I say. "You and I both know that if they found out it would be bad. Like actually bad not like forgetting to record the Sailor Moon marathon bad because it doesn't come on anymore and I missed a once in a lifetime opportunity but I still have it on my laptop so it doesn't even matter any-"

"Tweek!"

"This is serious, isn't it, Craig?" I ask. "If it weren't we wouldn't care so much…" Craig doesn't say anything. "Yeah, Ruby's quiet now but what if she does tell them or what if they find out? What happens then? I don't even know but my dad said it'd probably get way worse and I feel like he's right…"

"So, what? You're breaking up with me?" Craig asks, glaring at me.

"I should," I say. "But even though it'd make your life easier, I'm too selfish to actually do it."

"You mean you're a pussy," Craig corrects.

"Craig, please," I say. "I'm trying to have a moment."

"My bad. Continue,"

"I don't think I could handle not being with you anymore. I know we haven't been together long but it's been so nice and you're like, the only good thing in my life right now and I haven't been this happy in… I haven't ever been this happy actually. You're like a light and thinking about all the shit that comes with you scares the hell out of me but only because I know it risks losing you and I really want you, Craig."

When I look up again from my basically love confession, Craig is looking at the wall now. He folds his arms over his chest. "I said it didn't matter, man."

"If you're okay then why were you ignoring me this morning?! I can't stand not knowing what you're thinking! You never talk about it and I can't read your expression because there are none. It's like you just don't care about anything!" I say angrily. "But if you didn't then you don't care about me which is kind of how I felt when you walked in and didn't say hi and didn't look distressed or anything!"

"Please calm down," Craig says. He still stares at the wall. "I-" he sighs. "I'm sorry I didn't go up to you this morning. I was scared too."

"What?" My head snaps towards him.

"I knew you might freak out but I was freaking out too and I thought if I went up to you how I was then you'd freak out more and say you couldn't handle me like you did before."

"Before?-"

"That time at the pool. You said you couldn't handle my emotions _and_ yours so I try to be cool around you so you don't have to."

"God, Craig, why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I wanted to hang out with you and you said you couldn't if I was like that! What do you mean 'why would I do that'?" he snaps. "I did it for _you_!"

"Craig-"

"I go to the councilor to talk about my family," he tells me. "I know that I'm… _weird,_ but my family is so religious and I feel so suffocated in my own house. That's why I always go to Token's and that's why as soon as I became friends with Token I stopped going to church every Sunday. I told my parents that kids thought it wasn't cool and I had friends now. Still, it's a big part of our lives and it's not like I'm atheist or hate God because I'm Christian but that makes it worse because how could I believe in God and heaven and like _you_ ," Craig won't look up.

This is probably more terrifying than before. "That's like knowing that who I am is wrong and when I die I'm going to hell," he says. "I never had to pay attention to it before because I stopped going to church and it just wasn't prominent in my life but then you had to come along." Craig wraps his face with his arms. "You're right it would be horrible if anyone else found out and it would be so easy to just end it right now but I don't want to break up with you either. I can't say you're the only good thing in my life because I have amazing friends but you've made it so much better but at the same time you're forcing me to deal with my worst fear and I don't know what outweighs what."

"I'm confused." I tell him. Craig sighs, dropping his arms. "I'm sorry," I say. "But you said you don't want to break up with me but then ended it like you might want to break up with me."

The door opens, "Craig, you can come in now," the counselor calls.

Craig stares at me, "I'm confused too," he says and then gets up and enters the room.

* * *

"Tweek, what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"What are we going to do with you?"

"Send me away?"

My mom scoffs, "Tweek, we are not going to 'send you away'."

"Okay," I say.

My mom gives me a side-glance, "Honey, are you okay?"

"Yes." No.

"You sure?"

"Yes." No.

"I had to leave work to get you," she tells me.

"Mom, you're self-employed so it doesn't matter."

"Your father isn't going to be happy about this, Tweek. I'm not sure what he's gonna do to punish you," she says.

"Punish?" I ask.

"Yes, Tweek, this is the second time you've has a situation this month. You were suspended! We have to have some sort of retribution."

"What kind of punishment? Are you gonna take my phone away?"

"You hardly use it anyway. That's not really a punishment." Good Point.

When we get home I get a text from Kenny but I don't want my mom to change her mind about taking my phone away so I keep it in my pocket until I'm inside. My mom has to go back to work so I'll be here alone for a while before my dad gets to _punish_ me.

I check Kenny's text.

 _Dude, what happened? I heard you kicked Cartman's ass and got suspended. I knew you weren't okay. Why didn't you come to me?_

I put my phone back in my pocket and start the coffee machine. I'm more freaked out about the Craig think now that I've talked to him but I don't feel the same stress for some reason. Maybe because I'm home now and I get to be here until break.

That also means I'll have no real excuse to see Craig other than I want to and that won't exactly work unless he wants to see me also which I know is not true right now. Dammit, why did I have to think about that? Why is he always in my head? He's like a virus.

I'd paint but I have no inspiration. I don't really feel like doing anything I like doing. Maybe I'll go walking later tonight. But that also risks bumping into Craig. Isn't that a good thing? What if he's mad and yells at me? I'd probably jump off my roof if that happened…

My phone vibrates again. It's probably Kenny being persistent. I really don't want to talk to him or about it. I don't wanna talk to Wendy either. I don't wanna talk to my parents. I don't want to talk to anyone. I wanna talk to my drug dealer actually. I'll send him a text later.

Around the time my parents come home I head up to my room to avoid the fire but I know they'll come up. I don't think that's the point. I've never been punished before so I don't know if I should be worried or not. My parents have never punished me either though so they probably won't know what they're doing right?

After a few minutes I hear the front door open and my parents rustling around downstairs. I curl up on my bed with my laptop and pretend I don't notice when footsteps are coming up the stairs and stop at my door. I hear my mom's voice louder than her inside voice and it concerns me so I shut my laptop.

I'm about to get up but the door opens. "Tweek," my father says in a stern voice but when he sees me his facial features soften and he shakes his head. "Your mother and I have had it." I see my mom try to interject but it's nearly impossible, plus she's too fragile. At least her effort shows that whatever my dad is about to do is not okay with her, which scares me.

"What?" I ask. "What happened?"

"You can't see Craig anymore. It's too dangerous. You're so… _flamboyant_ and in such a small town you draw so much attention, especially now with this fight? What if Liane wants to sue, Tweek?" dad says even though she won't. Liane knows her son's a monster. She probably feels bad about raising that thing.

I pause, "You said… that I can't- I can't see Craig anymore? What the fuck is that?"

"Stop swearing, Tweek."

"But that's bullshit! How is that even relevant?"

" _Tweek_ ," my dad snaps. "It wasn't a suggestion up for debate," he tells me. "I don't ever want to see that boy in my house again. I better not catch you two together elsewhere either."

My blood is boiling but I know if I back talk anymore I risk being back- _handed_ by my father and I'd rather not right now. My parents leave my room. I think my dad is pissing my mom off because she knows he's kinda right but wants me to be happy and knows this is completely fucking with my whole existence. I hope she yells at him for yelling at me.

Let's look on the bright side… Things couldn't get any worse than this. Right?

I finally pull out my phone to respond to Kenny but there's another text. This one is from Craig.

 _I want to see you_

My heart pounds. Does he mean he just wants to see me or is this one of those texts like, he wants to _see_ me? Or maybe he wants to see me in a bad way like to end things for good… I reply.

 _My dad freaked out that I got suspended so let's meet tonight at the park_

Craig replies quicker than he ever has to one of my texts.

 _Ok_

* * *

 _Im getting behind on Chapters. Schools actually good for once, isnt that amazing? About to Storm down here in the Florida. Im so happy you all like the story so far. Developing Token and Clyde a bit more is a very swell idea and I plan on doing it now so thnk you. If I get a certain amount of reviews I might post on wednesday and Friday. big words for a girl who has only one chpter left to spare)_


	12. Lights Out

**One Headlight by Wallflowers**

It's so fucking cold. I'm in two coats, a scarf, and jeans with sweatpants over my jeans and I'm still freezing. It doesn't help that snow is seeping through my dirty beat up converse so my feet are wet and numb. I really need to ask Craig where he gets those boots.

I kick snow on my way to the park. I'm going slowly. Craig said he got there a while ago. What if he leaves because I'm taking so long? He must be cold. I sigh. I hate when I'm a dick but I'm so scared and I'm tired of being scared of Craig or my parents or of anything really.

Still, now that I'm so close I'm scared again. What would Craig need to say now? I'd break up with him just so I could stop thinking about it. I snort. That's funny. The breaking up will never be on my part. Being with Craig has been like a dream. Now, if I could kiss him at school and no one cared, that's a real dream. If our parents didn't care, that's delusions and actually having sex with Craig are my fantasies.

I stop walking and look around. It's so dark because the moon is behind the clouds and the park only has one street light above a bench. I don't see Craig but he said he was here and wouldn't he at least tell me if he left? If he left he was probably mad, so maybe not? But what if something happened to him?

I check my phone but I don't have any notifications. I'd call out his name but if there really is a serial killer, I don't want to give him any help. Great, now Craig's probably dead or close to it so it doesn't even matter. It's my fault. I can't even help him. What could I do? If I try to help him I'd end kidnapped too and then we'd just be together… Is that selfish?

"Fuck," I click on his name and wait while it rings. it rings and rings and rings… and then it goes to voicemail. "Oh, my God," HE'S DEAD. He's actually dead! "I killed him. I took too long. J-Jesus Christ!"

Something loops around my neck and grabs me in a choke hold.

Now _I'm_ gonna die! I totally fucking deserve it too. I killed Craig.

"You took for-fucking-ever, asshole," Craig snickers, flipping me around and planting a soft kiss on my lips. He tastes like cigarettes and smoke.

I let out a heavy breath, "Jesus fucking Christ, Craig? What the fuck was that?"

He just shrugs, "When I get bored at night, I lurk. You do it too, I've seen you."

"I do not _lurk_. Who the hell lurks? What does that even mean?" I say. "I _wander_ ," I correct the niorette.

"Whatever," Craig says. "What took you so long anyways? Your house is closer than mine."

"I was slower because it's cold and I can't feel my feet," I half-lie.

Craig glances down at my soaked sneakers and makes a face, "Whoa, you need new shoes."

"I need boots," I correct the niorette, flicking one of his yellow pom-pom's. "Yours are nice."

"Thanks," he kicks some snow over my toe. "They're really old too but look, no holes." He kicks his foot up to show me.

"Amazing," I marvel.

We stroll over to the bench and sit down. It's quiet and Craig pops open a pack of cigarettes. "Uhm," I start but Craig cuts me off.

"I'm too young to be worrying about this shit," he says. "I'm gonna do what makes me happy." Craig turns my face towards his to kiss me again. My eyes slowly close.

It's suddenly like the fog has been lifted. Even my uneasy thoughts are gone just with two simple sentences. Craig wants to be with me still. My dad said he didn't want to see us together and Craig's parents can't find out about us either so that just complicated our relationship so much more but I don't think either of us care anymore because we want to be together and what's the worst that could happen?

"My dad said I can't see you anymore," I tell him. "So we can't hang out at my house anymore."

"My parents work and Ruby just started tennis so my house is good sometimes and I have a room at Token's… I'm sure he won't mind," Craig says. "What's up with your dad?"

I smile. Craig didn't even blink. I guess he'd understand. "He's being a class A retard. It's because I got into another fight. He's worried I might attract too much attention if I'm a freak and a fag."

"It sucks," he states, leaning back. He doesn't sound particularly worried.

"You know, if we get caught, it could be detrimental."

"If we get caught, it would suck but it wouldn't be the end of the world. Plus, if we _don't_ get caught, then there's nothing to worry about. So we won't get caught," Craig says simply. I won't point out that he just kissed me in public on a bench, even if it is three in the morning. I've recently found out a lot more people wander at night than I thought.

I know how these things go. Not from experience but it's just so painfully obvious. With us not stressing so much about being together we're probably gonna get careless and then one fateful day we will be caught and even though we've said all of this now, it's not gonna be like this. It's gonna be terrible- for both of us now.

"When things get complicated I shut down. I don't like it at all," Craig says. "I'm sorry again about this morning. I should've just talked to you… You needed me and if I had then you wouldn't have gotten in trouble."

"True, but don't blame yourself. What happen happened and now we're past it. Right?"

"I guess," Craig says.

"So, we aren't?"

"I don't know…" he says. "I feel bad. Let me feel bad."

"I don't want you to feel bad," I explain.

"Well, it will make me feel better," he says.

"When?"

"Tweek, I don't know."

I take Craig in my arms and rest my face behind his neck. "Well, hurry up. If you feel bad, I'll probably feel bad too," I mumble against his skin. I feel Craig breathing in and out smoke. "That's gonna kill you, you know?"

He scoffs, "Bullshit. Don't you smoke weed?"

"Different."

"No," Craig argues.

"Weed is from the Earth," I explain. "It's natural. That shit's tar."

"Tobacco comes from the Earth, you stupid fucker."

"But they add chemicals, dumbass," I say.

"I'm not dumb," he tells me. I hum into his skin.

"Tweek," he says.

I smile. I like it when he says my name. Something about it makes me imagine him naked under me, pressed against my bed- or various places honestly- and screaming it over and over and over- "Tweek!"

"Hm?"

"Let's go to Stark's and make out before I have to go to school tomorrow," Craig doesn't suggest. It was more like, 'I'm going now, follow me if you want to and I know you want to'.

One of the best parts about being with another teenage boy is that Craig probably thinks about sex as much as I do but he's probably more afraid because of his whole family thing. But, hey, I'm not pressuring him.

Clearly.

Craig swiftly stands, leaving me leaning against air now. "What's the difference between making out there and making out here?" I ask, pouting as I stand, but then realizing since it's night, we could hold hands.

I grab his and we start walking, swinging our joined limbs. The Sound of Music soundtrack plays in the background. "Stark's is quieter and there are no lights so even if someone comes, they won't see us until we can hear them."

"Who would come? It's like four in the morning."

"I don't fucking know, Tweek. Didn't you say Kenny's up about now and all the other weirdos?"

" _You're_ up right now," I point out.

"I am? Holy shit," Craig says sarcastically.

"Are you calling yourself a weirdo?"

"Everyone is weird in some way. We just all pretend like we're normal. It's stupid as shit," he says.

"You're a fucking genius," I tell Craig, snatching his hat off of his head.

"You're an idiot," he snatches it back.

"Most of the weirdos that are up right now already know about us."

Craig pauses, "Good point," he says, continuing to walk anyway.

I start to hum a tune while we walk, swinging our arms. Craig asks, "I heard you kicked Cartman's ass."

"Me too," I say.

Craig glances at me, "What?" I just shrug. "I heard you put him in the hospital. What happened?"

"Cartman's a dick, that's what happened. He deserved it… didn't he?"

"I don't know, man. Why are you asking me?" Craig mumbles.

I sigh, "Because I feel guilty and you hate everyone so I know you'll rant about what an asshole he is and justify my actions. Right? Go 'head, I'm waiting…"

Craig blinks at me, "First off, I don't hate everyone, douche-sack. I just hate a majority. Second, why would you feel guilty?"

"I didn't want to put him in the hospital…"

"It's not a bad thing to put someone in the hospital. I have," Craig admits, though I feel like it's something I could have assumed. "Everyone gets angry… Some people just feel it harder and then _other_ people feel it harder. Like your fist in Cartman's face. He felt it."

"Lovely, Craig," I let my feet scrape the ground as I walk on.

"Mhm," Craig says.

"It was like I blacked out. It was scary," I tell him, quietly.

"Like you couldn't control yourself?" I nod. "I don't know about that. Does it happen often?" I shake my head. "Uhm, I wouldn't worry about it. Stop worrying about it." He squeezes my hand.

"Aw, Craig!" I peck his cheek. "So cute," I smile. "I feel better," I announce. "And look- we made it to Stark's. It-" Craig sticks his foot out in front of me and I fall face into a heap of snow. It's numbing and cold and wet. I whine, "Craig, why?"

Craig drops on top of me and I grunt. "I didn't think this through," he tells me. "If we lay on the snow, we'll get wet."

"Sucks," I kiss his neck. "Wanna go home then?" I kiss kiss jaw.

"Mmm…" he hums. I kiss again. "We're gonna get sick," he tells me.

"Then let's leave," I say, licking a patch of skin and sucking the area.

"I don't want to get wet, Tweek," he says. Mmm, _Tweek_.

"Lay on me," I tell him, placing my hands on his hips.

"Yeah, but then you'll get wet and get sick and then we can't kiss because I don't want to get sick."

"I'm already wet but okay. How many jackets are you wearing?" I kiss him again.

"Two," he answers.

"Me too," I tell him. "We can each take one off to lie on and then I'm sure we can keep each other warm." I don't want to think about how we wouldn't have to do this shit at all if our parents didn't suck. I'm just gonna pretend that our parents love our relationship because it makes both Craig and I very happy and that this is just something experimental on our part to bring some excitement to the relationship.

After we've made a make-shift bed out of our coats and settle on it Craig ends up somewhat nested between my legs. We stare at the water. It's all black except the reflection from the moon and the stars which stand out tonight, luckily for us.

Craig turns himself around in my lap and throws his legs to each side of me. I smile down at him. "What's up?"

"It's getting late," he says.

"Early," I correct. He flicks me off. "Yeah, but it only takes a few minutes to get you off- thirty, at most," I tap his nose with the tip of my own and hold it there.

"Dick."

"Sure, whatever," I push my lips against Craig's. Craig comes back more forcibly and slips his hand in my shirt. "Okay," I say on his lips. His hands are cold but warm up the more they travel my torso.

I didn't want to be the only one feeling good, though it seems Craig wants to take the reins so I hold him with my hands on his back but as Craig's tongue enters my mouth I slip my hands beneath the fabric of his jeans and onto his ass.

He pushes me back onto our jackets and lightly glides his fingers across the skin on my stomach. I suck in air through my nose. If I open my eyes I could see stars past Craig and it's an amazing feeling. Craig is an amazing feeling. Having Craig as my… not boyfriend but _partner_? Whatever, he's mine and having him is awesome. It takes the dopey caterpillar that slugs around my heart and puts him in a cocoon for a while and now it just flutters all the fucking time. It flutters in my chest, down my stomach, in my throat, and through my head and I never want that butterfly to die.

The way he's kissing me right now is so different. I feel like I could kiss Wendy or Kenny- even Clyde or Token and be like _that was cool, I guess_. But kissing Craig like this makes me feel like I'm alive and I'm okay. I'm a person and everyone knows that and today- tomorrow, I'm gonna be fine.

Sometimes being with him like this makes me feel like nothing else in the world exists than us. Every problem isn't a problem and if you think about it nothing really matters because- think about it- you're not thinking. Just planets, just orbiting, just spinning, just floating, just birthing, just breathing and eating, just _living and loving_. Just me and Craig in the atmosphere.

Craig's hand descends down my abdominal until it reaches my jeans and he starts at the buttons. "We don't have enough time for me to enjoy this," he admits.

"Let me do it for you then," I tell him, taking his hand and stopping his motions.

"No, just let me," he says.

"Craig," I say, "this is for you. Right now, you want it. I always want it so that doesn't really matter. Plus, I will make sacrifices for you."

"Sacrifices?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow at my performance.

"Yeah, like denying your blowjob even though I really want it."

"Whatever," he says.

"Yeah, _whatever_ , switch spots with me."

Craig complies and I start to undo _his_ jeans instead. I trail warm wet kisses down his happy trail. I slide his jeans off completely so that I can kiss his thigh. I grab the other in my hand and squeeze. Craig sighs contently at the affection. It's probably relaxing and that's good because that's the point. I suck and bite and kiss and nibble at Craig's flesh, leaving a glossy trail up his thigh to his groin.

I grip Craig through his boxers and start to stroke his length. He's already hard but so am I. This just works me up more. I yank his boxers off with his jeans and take the head of his cock into my mouth, sucking. I watch him the whole time. Craig's the sexiest when we're doing this. He's most expressive in these situation, as you might guess. I know exactly what he's thinking.

I lick down the base of his dick and then take the whole thing in my mouth. It hits the back of my throat but I lack a gag reflex. I disengaged it after my first blowjob (given not received). I gagged so hard, I swear my voice box broke or something. It hurt like hell and I had to stop. It was painfully awkward.

Craig starts to grab his hair which is so amazing. I squeeze his hip in my hand roughly and he twists in my grasp. My hand soon abandons his hip though to slide onto his ass. I use it to guide him deeper into my mouth.

A significantly louder moan than the rest of the noises Craig's been making escapes his lips and I have to pause. He's covered his face with his hat and even in this lighting I can still see how red his face is.

"Oh, my God," I chuckle.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"That was the sexiest thing you have ever done," I tell the hiding niorette. He simply groans. I'd reach up and steal his hat if he weren't throbbing in my hand.

Craig comes shortly after the hair tugging. I spit it out on the snow next to us and think about how we should've used a condom. I sigh. Next time, I guess.

I climb back up to him and we snuggle together. What I like about South Park is that we can lay here and see the stars as oppose to the city where there's no fields of grass near a natural lake or stars. There's probably other romantic shit to do but this seems superior by a landslide.

Holy shit, this is romantic isn't it?

A small smile battles my objections onto my face. I don't know why this being a romantic couple thing makes me so happy. Maybe because Craig and my relationship just kinda got thrown into the shredder, yet here we are.

Craig's breathing finally evens out and I have to glance at him, "Are you sleeping?"

"Stop asking me that. If I am, you just woke me up, ass-hat," he says.

I scoff, "If you were, you wouldn't hear me. I'm not yelling, dick- _hat_." Craig glares at me. "You shouldn't sleep out here anyway. We're wet and it's cold. We should head back now." Craig rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It sucks and I can't walk you home because who knows who'd see us in this stupid town."

"Mmm," Craig says. "Give me my pants."

Craig and I depart after dressing and promises to hang out at Token's some time later.

* * *

 _I didn't proof read this._

 _mmmmmmmmmmmhkasfjljgfdg Anyway, thanks for reviews, reading, loving, whatever and hope your lifes are as well as mine, i guess. I'm having a little boy-trouble but *sigh* I didn't have an ending to that sentence._


	13. Numb Skull

**Chapter Track: Will Calls by Grizzly Bear (Diplo Remix)**

I fell off the roof. Don't worry, I'm fine but I did. And now, I think I have a phobia of roofs which sucks because I also think I have a phobia of not seeing the sun come up. Quite the dilemma, I know. Lucky for me that it had been snowing for the past two weeks otherwise maybe I wouldn't be fine. At least that's what Wendy said.

It happened while I was sketching Wendy. She was ranting about Stan and Bebe again but this time she was also ranting about Kenny. He must've told her about his older women.

"I'm an idiot, right?" Wendy queried. I didn't think she was looking for an actual answer until she snapped, " _Right_?!" I jumped, dropping my pencil. "I couldn't go to Bebe with this or anyone because everyone hates me now. I thought- I don't know what I thought. I was making new friends and I thought maybe, before, what I was doing was just… it wasn't what was right and this-" she pointed to the floor, "was how I was really supposed to live."

I started to sketch furiously as Wendy gave me an abundance of emotion, the real emotions; relatable emotions. Wendy continued as I assumed she would. "It was so boring- doing what you're supposed to and shit. It all just- the days, they just jumble all together." Wendy pushed her hands together, frazzled. "Routine- fucking routines. Debate on Mondays, tennis every day, piano Friday, and mathletes," she counted off her fingers. I flipped to a new page. "It seems like so much and sometimes it's too much and then sometimes it's just fucking boring," she told me.

"This was exciting: smoking with you and- and being with Kenny." Then she scoffs, "I was never _with_ Kenny. Nobody is ever _with_ him."

I stop my hand because Wendy begins to tear up and she looks at me, "You knew, didn't you? That I was never with him?" I nod slowly. She breaks into a soft sob. "I'm just unlikable."

"Wendy-"

"Everyone _does_ hate me. I know they do so don't fucking tell me they don't. If they didn't before they do now. I know it," she had cut me off. "Bebe, 'cause I called her a bitch and I really blew it with Stan. I thought I was really over him. Kenny thinks I'm a fucking idiot and- and- who else even cares? My parent's probably think I'm a mess. I am. I'm a mess," she said. "I know because I'm sitting on a fucking roof with Tweek Tweak. The only person left that I can talk to." I didn't know if that was supposed to be an insult but I overlooked it because Wendy was in pain and she probably figured she had nothing to lose. I didn't mind though. I say, technically, mean shit to her all the time.

I don't know how to comfort people. That's probably why I might come off as cold. It's just awkward for me and usually when I'm in a state like that I just want to be alone and deal. But Wendy needs compassion and reassurance so I said, "Wendy, nobody hates you. If anything, they're just upset." I know what it's like to be hated. Wendy is not hated. "I think you're having like, a premature mid-life crisis."

"This sucks," she told me. "This sucks, this sucks, this fucking sucks!" She hit the roof hard with her hands. "Why was I so stupid?" Then she scoffed again, " _Was_."

"What happened?" I asked. "That day we skipped at the park. You never really told me."

"You said you didn't really care," she countered. Touché, Testaburger.

"Well, I do now. Is it a secret?"

She glared at me and I started to sketch her face, the curve of her eyebrows down to the tip of her nose and then her narrowed gaze. "No, it's not a, 'secret'," she used her fingers for air quotations around the word, 'secret'. "He just got sick of me- or bored, is what he said. I guess. I don't know. It probably was something small and we probably would've gotten back together but then I said some stupid shit and really hurt his feelings because I thought that was it. That was finally gonna be it. He- Then- I don't know. He got with Bebe. She probably provoked him on numerous occasions and he didn't pay attention to it but then I said those things and, he probably didn't care anymore. She's way more exciting than me," Wendy shook her head, sadly. "My closest fucking friends. Like why do I even care so much anyways?"

"Isn't that who you are though?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "They've been holding me down. I'm young. I need to _live_."

I chuckled at this, "You are a mess."

"Thank you," she said. "This coming from Tweek Tweak: your local psychopath."

"Psychopaths are aggressive. I hardly think I'm aggressive, Wendy," I corrected her. "Don't call me that. I'd rather you call me a faggot than a psychopath."

"Noted."

"I'm going to Token's soon. I wanna see Craig."

Wendy made kissy faces at me. "Do you miss him? He looks miserable at school, you know."

"He always looks miserable at school."

She laughed, "I know. It was a joke." I flipped her off. "Still cute. When do you get back in school?"

"It's only been like two days, Wendy. I get back on Friday, which I'll probably skip anyways. Those assholes."

"You kicked the crap out of him, Tweek."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. He didn't look that bad." But everyone says I really fucked him up. My hypothesis? I blacked out. Like in elementary. Maybe Cartman will move away. Anxiety levels? Max. I hope it doesn't happen ever again.

"Mhm," Wendy said. "Don't skip Friday. We miss you."

'We'= Wendy, Craig, and maybe Kenny. "Okay," I still might if I really don't feel up to it. Three people missing me out of the four hundred or however many go to the school is not very persuasive, but it's very impressive for me. I am undecided. I'd go for Craig but I can't coddle him there anyways.

"Yeah, I miss him," I said upon remembering Wendy's previous question.

" _It's only been like two days_ ," she mocked. We got quiet again. It started getting dark so I assumed the sun was going down. There were too many clouds to see it. "What are you gonna do about your dad?" Wendy asked curiously.

"My dad's a prick and my mom is weak. I think they might get a divorce or separate or something. I kinda hope they do. Neither of them seems happy. It makes it hard for me to be happy," I admitted. "I don't want to have to hide with Craig. It puts a damper on the whole relationship thing- though, it could be fun at times."

I placed my sketchbook off to the side. "It's gonna get dark," I pointed out.

"Are you scared of the dark?" Wendy's voice housed real concern.

I shrugged, "I don't prefer it."

"You wanna get down then?"

Something caught my eye and I glanced down to the sidewalk. Craig was walking with Clyde. They stared up at us. Craig waved upon eye contact. I waved back. I hadn't seen him since that night at the lake. I wonder how he is. Craig's not a big texter and, really, I'm not either so, we haven't talk at all since the lake.

"Yeah," I told Wendy. "Hold this," I pass her my book to start my climb down into my room. I pondered why he thought it necessary to bring Clyde with a grimace because I don't like Clyde- not aggressively though.

When I threw my legs over the edge of the roof and onto my window sill. I didn't take into account the snow and ice that would be perched there as we had been sitting for an hour and the snow here's been nonstop. My grip was lost almost immediately. There was no time to scream and I hit the snow with a thump and cloud of white dusty frozen rain. I felt nothing.

I saw the grey sky and thought about the last time I had seen it blue. Everything I heard was muffled. A scream that I assumed to be Wendy and Craig saying fuck. A lot. I feel him.

I didn't move, not because I couldn't. I think I was just in shock. I probably should have said something though because that wasn't clear to everyone else; especially Craig who seemed to be doing his version of freaking out.

"Shit, dude. What do we do?" Clyde's voice said.

" _Fuck_ \- Call a fucking ambulance. What do you _mean_?"

"Shit, man."

" _Call a fucking ambulance, Clyde_."

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing, _Craig_?"

The front door opened and Wendy came running down the steps of my porch, prodding quickly through the snow with no shoes because they were in my room and I guess they hadn't been a priority, and dropped to her knees beside me. She swooped me up in her arms, "Tweek, oh my shit! Are you okay?" I looked at her with wide eyes but nod. She pulled me into her bosom and squeezed me into her tightly. "Holy hell, Tweek. God dammit. You have to be more careful. What if it hadn't been snowing. What if you hit the ground?"

I'd be fucking dead. That's what. I just nodded again. "Fuck, did you hit your head or something?" she asked. "You can't talk anymore?"

"You probably shouldn't have moved him if he hit his head, asshole."

"Fuck you, Craig. You're the king of assholes," she told him.

"I'm really fine," I told them, sitting up.

I begin to stand. Craig shot me a dirty look, "Are you mental?"

"Do not _fucking_ call me mental," I told him strictly, while I struggled. Wendy grabbed my arm to assist me.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Why are you standing? You just hit your head the other day. You probably have a concussion. I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be standing right now."

Wendy glanced between us, seeming uncertain about helping me up or back down. But I pushed the rest of the way to my feet, raising a defiant eyebrow at Craig. "The four feet of snow broke my fall, nicely, I think," I said to him.

"Well, he's up. He seems fine…" Wendy says. "Maybe you should go inside and lay down."

"He can't now. What if he falls asleep?" Craig points out. I stick my tongue out at him and he flips me off.

"Craig, are you going into med school or something?" Wendy asks, very genuinely curious.

Craig rolls his eyes, "No."

Wendy gasps, "OH! You're just caring for Tweek. Oh, that's so cute. You're so lucky, Tweek."

"Tweek just fell off a fucking roof…" Clyde says.

"You're such a dumbass," Craig accused. "Don't do that shit anymore. What if we weren't here?"

"Climb on my roof?"

"No, Tweek, _breathe_. 'Don't do that shit anymore'. What do _you_ think?"

Craig really scolded me. He actually gave me orders. I didn't know whether to be flattered or annoyed. I was mildly both but mostly confused as I had just fallen off the roof.

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," I said to him.

"Mm..." Craig considered. "That's not how it works," he decided.

Wendy and I had gone inside to retrieve our outer wear. When we returned Wendy announced she had someplace else to be and departed. I think she just didn't want to be a fourth wheel with Clyde.

I had asked Craig if he and Clyde had come to get me. He replied with, "We were in the neighborhood."

Clyde started on about how he's debating whether or not to join lacrosse. I told him only pricks play lacrosse. He agreed. Craig grabbed my hand subtly and whispered. "Seriously, don't do that anymore." When I glanced towards the niorette he was staring straight with no expression. I blinked at the side of his face, with a furrowed brow. Then they raised.

That's when I had realized that Craig actually cared- about me. And Craig doesn't care about much. Except, I learnt, his friends: Clyde and Token, his pigs: Jack and Sally, his family: in a concerning scared-of-them-finding-out way, and now I guess me.

Oh, that makes my heart ache. Oh, okay, oh man... "Shit," I said.

"What?" Craig asked.

"I fell."

* * *

 _Hello, me again_ _…_ _Been a minute_ _…_ _Winter break just started, WOO! So, um, yeah. I rewrote this like 3 times. I'll probably just use those for later chapters- like the next one XD_

 _Does anyone still read this?_ _Regardless, I guess,_

 _Happy Holidays_

 _p.s. still tell me what music yall listen to. I do check it out. If you think I'm not bumping to the Kinks now on the regular, think again XD_


	14. Destructive

"Token's gonna pick us up after work. We're all staying at his house," Craig tells me. "We're going to my house to get my stuff right now though." I swing our conjoined hands, playing a lovely melody in my head. I know we aren't supposed to, but he let me and that makes me very happy. Clyde looks displeased but it's very rare that Craig is so laid back about this stuff and he seems kind of content even. Maybe he wanted to see what it felt like to just do it and not care. Regardless, fuck Clyde, dude. "I want you to meet my parents."

And just like that, the record scratched. I stopped walking but didn't let go of Craig's phalanges and so, as a result he was pulled back- or more so, yanked. I caught him in a completely appropriate way and set him straight by his shoulders. "Craig," I say. "Your parents are religious homophobes. Remember?"

Craig sighs, slowly rolling his eyes. "We avoid your parents- as well as mine. God forbid they become friends cause then they'd be in cahoots and- Jesus Christ- That's too much pressure," I ramble.

Craig yanks his hand back, "It'd be more obvious if I was avoiding them meeting you. I hang out with you so much that they'd notice and get suspicious. If I just introduce you as a new friend then they won't care."

"Craig," I say. "You're a genius, baby." I peck his forehead before he can object.

Clyde starts to snicker. Craig's cheeks darken, "Don't fucking call me that."

"Or what?" I tease him. "You blushed a lot. That's cute." I poke his cheek. Craig glares at me. "You should just quit pretending that what I do annoys you. I know it doesn't really. I think even Clyde knows too so, you don't have to."

"It does," Craig corrects me.

"Maybe a little bit, but I think only because Clyde's here and you're embarrassed." Clyde shrugs and Craig doesn't say anything which proves me right in my opinion. We continue to walk; Clyde with his hands in his pocket and Craig and I hand in hand. "What about you?" I ask Clyde. "Where's your luggage?"

"We keep stuff over there. Token's house is like a second house-"

"Especially since his parents are always gone," Clyde adds.

"I need to feed my guinea pigs… and talk to my parents," Craig says.

"And stock up his dildos."

"Clyde, shut the fuck up," Craig tells the brunette with a jerk of his middle finger in the boy's face.

"I didn't know you were into that…" I say to Craig. "If I had known I would've-"

" _Tweek_ ," Craig warns.

I snicker and then keep up my front, "At least now I know what to get you for Christmas."

Clyde begins to laugh loudly. "I'll get him a vibrator and you get him a dildo," he says between laughs.

I smile a little knowing I made Clyde genuinely laugh. "What kind do you favor, Craig? Long or thick- or both?" Clyde laughs harder. "And I also need to know what kind you already have so that I don't accidently get you one you already have."

"Colors," Clyde wheezes. "Designs too; I want this gift to be perfect," he laughs harder.

"Blue," I suggest.

"Oh, my God," Craig mumbles. "Do you think with the type of family and house I live in that I really have the opportunity to buy and stash dildos or even use them for that matter?"

"If you want one, Craig, just ask, dude," Clyde tells the niorette.

"Yeah, man, you can use it at my house," I wink at Craig.

Craig groans, "I'm so over this."

"I'm sorry," I tell him, nuzzling into his hat. It would be his hair if he weren't wearing it which is mildly vexing if I'm being honest. Craig's hair always smells so nice. His hat is okay, I guess.

"Yeah, well, whatever…" Craig looks away. "We're getting close to my house so," he glances at our hands. I can tell he doesn't want to just take his back. As if that would hurt me somehow which isn't not true… I don't know.

Our hands drop as Craig's house comes into view. There's a huge work truck parked in the driveway and I can tell by the way it lacks a white sheet of snow that it's probably only been there a few minutes. I glance at Craig, unsure of whether I should be worried or not.

"What if they already think I'm gay because they've heard about me?"

"They're 'loving Christians', Tweek. _They don't hold judgemen_ t," Craig says resentfully. The way his whole comment, which was meant to comfort me, was completely sarcastic. Does that mean I _should_ worry? I guess he's right… If they're so religious and their religion says not to judge people. I should be good. Plus, they don't even know I'm gay.

When we get to the door Craig pushes it open. "Fucking finally," a huge deep voice says before we've even entered. "Craig, your mother told you take the trash out two days ago!"

After we all enter, I can see Craig's house is picture perfect. It's tidy but homey yet modern. It's main color scheme is a navy blue and there are a bunch of candles everywhere. I can imagine that they copied the IKEA catalog to a T.

The walls are moderately plastered with family pictures, portraits, and baby pictures with only one piece of art that looks kind of expensive. Big Tuck is sitting at the dining room table with a newspaper which is feel is so ironic that it isn't ironic. Mama Tuck comes out of the kitchen, pulling yellow rubber gloves off her fingers and wiping her hands off on her apron- yes, _apron_.

They both stare at us. "New friend?" asks Mama Tuck.

"Uh, yeah, mom…" Craig takes his hat, coat, and shoes off at the door and sets them next to all the others. Clyde and I follow his example. "This is Tweek. We hang out now, I guess."

I smile, politely and wave. I'm glad I look casual today. I don't know what I usually look like but I feel good about today's look with the events that I found myself in. I wish I had known about meeting my 'not boyfriend's' parents before I left the house. I would have changed into something more… ass-kissing.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Tweek."

"Richard and Sherry's son right?" Big Tuck questions. I nod.

"Oh, uh, yeah," I nod. "We own the- uh- coffee… shop."

"Oh yeah," Mama Tuck says. "The one by the Whole Foods. I heard about the reopening but coffee really isn't my thing. You should swing by there, hun," she pats Big Tuck's shoulder.

"We serve other things than coffee. We make tea and pastries- well, my ma does. She's a really good baker." That's how they went into business together. It's a beautifully balanced mix if you ask me. The only thing my parents actually have under control, I think.

"Oh, really? I oughta swing by sometime then," she says to herself. "Are you all staying for dinner?"

Craig shakes his head immediately. I almost forgot that these are the same parents that make Craig hate himself, the same ones that manage to teach Ruby the things she's said to Craig. They were probably exact words she's heard from her parents- or her pastor. "Token's picking us up. I'm just checking on Jack and Sally."

"Oh, well, alright," his mom says, staring at Craig for a moment before returning to the kitchen.

"Take out the trash before you leave," his dad says, not even glancing up from his paper.

Clyde tells Craig that he'll feed the pigs while Craig does the trash and we head upstairs, leaving Craig with his parents. As we're entering his room another door opens behind us. I dare to glance back at the strawberry blonde exiting her own bedroom.

She seems surprised to see me then her face turns red with anger and embarrassment. She starts to open her mouth but then presses her lips together tightly, clenching her jaw. "You're gonna ruin our family," she whispers.

She decides she's not gonna leave until I do or maybe she's waiting for me to respond. Instead, I close Craig's door.

I glance around the room. It's just like the rest of the house and seems to me, at least, the exact opposite of Craig. With plain beige walls and a nicely made bed with navy blue sheets and comforter, dark wood nightstand and matching dresser and desk. The only thing on the wall is a calendar with no dates crossed out or marked. On the dresser is a framed picture of the whole family.

Clyde grabs the guinea pig food bag and the room is filled with loud urgent squeaks. "Wow," I say, looking at the cage for the first time. It's two story with a blue igloo and green fleece bedding.

"Yeah," Clyde says, petting one's head with his finger. "Craig probably takes better care of these fur balls than himself sometimes."

"They're cute… Which is Jack and which is Sally?"

Clyde hums in consideration. "Jack's the black and white one and Sally has some orange on her." He pours the food into their bowls and then throws some hay in.

Craig walks in and sighs heavily, shutting the door behind him. "I fucking hate it here."

"The atmosphere is… tense," Clyde says.

"And fake," I add. "Like, what the fuck is this?" I gesture to his room. "Whose room is this?"

"My parents put it together… They have this picture perfect idea of what we should be. God forbid, I step outside the lines," he tells me. "But, like, I said, Token's house is more my house than my own house is."

"What'd they talk to you about?" Clyde asks. I don't know what he's talking about.

"They said I can't stay at Token's all break and that they want me back for Christmas and they want me to go to church with them this weekend."

"God," Clyde groans.

Craig doesn't say anything but his face agrees with Clyde. He opens his pet's cage and pulls out Jack. He pets his guinea pig affectionately and my head cocks, curiously. How uncharacteristic… Craig is being… so cute! On top of that, he's acting like he has feelings. I always knew he did but he never _acts_ like it.

"Craig," I whisper. He looks at me with a furrowed brow. "Are there cameras in here?"

"What?" he asks.

"Do your parents have cameras in your rooms? To like watch you and make sure you're being holy?"

"God, what? No, Tweek, that's just crazy," he tells me.

I kiss him anyway.

Even though he called me crazy.

"Aw," Clyde coos. "I wish I had a camera."

When I pull away from Craig's lip, a little reluctantly, Craig says, "Let's go. I don't want to be here anymore."

"Lucky for you," Clyde says, checking his phone. "Token is outside waiting for us anyways."

Craig gently places his pig back into the cage after kissing his forehead. I swoon. We head out after a quick goodbye to Mama Tuck, Big Tuck, and now Baby Tuck who's on the couch watching cartoons.

"I'll hopefully see you soon, Tweek," his mother said.

I nodded trying to look as hopeful as I could pretend to be, then we all follow Craig out and pile into Token's Cadillac.

Craig says, "That was... uncomfortable."

* * *

 _I had a choice to post this today or take prob another week to write about the sleepover at Tokes but someone reviewed today so idk. THanks for the suppost and new music c: lmk if you'd rather the longer chapters tho and I hope you had a nicer week than I_


	15. It's InTENSE

"Tweek met your parents?" Token asks.

Craig says, "It's just strategy, Toke." Token nods, driving out of South Park to the higher class houses that sit on the hill. "I introduced him as a new friend."

"I see," Token says. "Well, how was it?"

"Weird," I admit. "Just, in the air. It was like, tense and like, fake. I don't know. I only really know my parents and that was completely different."

"Yeah," Token says. "Did they like you at least?"

"They seemed pleasant," I tell him.

"Yeah, I'm sure they did," Clyde says. "And if they knew he was gay then they did an awful good job at not showing it."

"Let's talk about anything else," suggests Craig.

"Birds that can't fly," I say.

"Penguins," Clyde throws out.

"Flamingos," says Token, driving up the hill to his house.

He's pulling into his actual driveway when Craig says, "The kiwi."

Everyone stops and I look at the niorette just staring forward blankly. He turns towards me with the same expression and I bite my lip before bursting out laughing. Clyde and Token start laughing too, and then finally Craig.

"Kiwi?" I ask him.

"What the fuck? I'm dead," Token laughs harder, grabbing his stomach.

"Sometimes, Craig," Clyde says snickering as he steps out of the car. "You're the funniest person I know. Only sometimes though."

"Thanks, Clyde, you're only an asshole sometimes."

We all run inside from the cold, stopping at the door because we weren't expecting Tokens mom to be standing at the counter sorting through mail. She smiles at us. "Hey, baby, what's up," she says.

"Mom," Token greets. "Where's dad? Why are you home?"

Token's mother laughs, "Because I live here? Am I interrupting something?" She asks glancing at all of us behind her son. "Anyway, your father and I were just stopping by. We had a few off days until we have to go to Texas. It took a day to get here though and it will take another or so to get there so, we're really just stopping by," she says.

"Texas?" Token asks, stripping his coat and shaking it from his limbs.

"Yeah," his mom responds. "Big hospital," she says simply. Token nods understandingly. "I was kinda hoping that we could go out as a family like to eat..." Token's mom trails off as she sees the look on her sons face and nods. "But I see you've got your friends over. Maybe another time."

Something about this seems too personal for me- any of us being here. The disappointment in her voice is heart breaking but the look on Token's face that's like he doesn't even care tells me that maybe they really are never here like Clyde and Craig say and maybe Token used to care and now he just doesn't. "Yeah," Token says. "C'mon, guys," he says to us, starting towards the stairs.

"Say hello to your father before we have to go," his mother calls after us. Token sighs.

In his room, Token shuts the door. He kicks off his shoes and we all take off our outerwear. It's quiet.

" _Another time_ ," Token mocks. Well, never mind then. "When, mom? _When_? This is the first time I've seen her in months!" He plops down on his huge bed.

"At least she's trying..." Clyde tries. Token scoffs.

"Oh, yeah. I'm so glad she could squeeze me into her busy schedule. Why did they even come here? The last time we talked was literally about them being so excited about my future and college and being a surgeon like them. That's not even what I want to do. They're never here and when they are they don't listen," Token tells us. "They hardly even know me."

"Too much parent drama for one day," Craig decides. "Get them to leave so we can smoke, Toke."

"God, you're right. We can invite Red and Annie over." Wendy could come over.

"I'm gonna go talk to my dad, I guess. Try to get them to go. I'll be back guys." Token leaves.

"Ugh," Craig groans. "Too much parent drama," he repeats. "Parents are so stupid. Clearly something went wrong when they were being raised so why wouldn't they try to prevent it from happening to us?"

"Because logic is not always applied to the equation," I tell him. "At least your parents think they're doing the right thing." Craig raises an eyebrow at me. "Their religion. They think they're doing good because it's their religion or whatever. Mine are just assholes."

Clyde snickers, "I like football. My dad likes football. We root for different teams sometimes but that's about as complex as our house gets."

"I like football," Craig says. "My dad likes football. We play for different teams and that's about as complex as our house gets."

Clyde and I laugh. "See, Craig? This is what I'm talking about, man. Hilarious!"

After our laughter dies down and Token re-enters the room with a smile, "The parents are gone. Finally."

"Thank God," Craig drops Clyde and heads to Token's dresser. He opens the top drawer and pulls out a pipe, a jar, and a lighter. He brings all the items back to the bed and positions himself next to me. Craig starts filling the bowl and Token starts changing. Right in front of us. Since Craig's my 'not boyfriend' does that mean I have to pretend to not drool over Token or is it okay? I can look at him with out blatantly checking him out. Plus, I'm gay so he should know that when he takes his clothes off in front of me with a body like that there's a chance I'm gonna check out the goods. He strips all the way down to his boxers. They're Calvin Klein. Token stretches and then starts to pull on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. I glance to my side where Craig's staring at me pointedly. I smile. He frowns. "What?" I finally say. Craig pouts and turns away from me. "What?" I repeat. Craig doesn't respond. I sigh, "I was just looking! You can't tell me you haven't."

"You don't have to be so obvious," he mumbles.

"Aw, are you jealous, Craig?"

"Fuck off," Craig says. I know he wants to flick me off but can't because he's filling he first bowl.

"I'm sorry I checked Token out. It didn't mean anything. I still think you're the most attractive person here." Craig shuts me up by sticking the pipe in my mouth. I like this pipe. It's made out of wood and looks like something out of an old movie. Craig is quick to light it before I can say anything so I don't and just inhale. When he's decided I've had enough he plucks it from my mouth and I blow all the smoke in his face in a way he's done to me before I'm sure.

Craig takes it. And I even swear I could've seen a small smile but maybe the smoke fogged my vision. My mouth opens and about to say something when the pipe is shoved back in my mouth and Craig's lighting the bowl again. Again I hit it but this time when Craig takes the pipe he leans in and kisses me. He tongues my mouth open and I exhale into his mouth when his hand brushes my cheek. When I open my eyes Craig's exhaled the smoke through his nose.

"Shit," I say, breathless.

"Oh, my God. So cute," Clyde says in a stereotypical gay voice. I narrow my eyes at him and Craig flicks him off. He'll kiss me in front Token and Clyde- like, seriously kiss me. It was probably really cute.

"It sucks that's you guys can't be out. I bet you'd be a really popular couple if you were."

"Well, no fucking shit, Token," Craig says. "But popular doesn't mean liked. There'd probably be more bad attention than good."

"Mm," I hum. "I think there'd be more good attention but the bad would over power it."

"Regardless," Craig rolls his eyes.

"I'm not saying I want to. I don't," I tell him, referring to the whole 'being out' thing.

"Of course you don't," Craig says. "Why would you?"

"Well, maybe one day..."

"Obviously, one day. Just not today."

I narrow my eyes at the niorette. "Are you saying...?"

Craig blushes, "What I said was vague. Interpret it how you want. I don't care."

"Of course you don't," I tease, snatching his hat off and pulling it over my hair. My hair isn't short enough to be completely covered like Craig's though so some blonde peeks out of places.

Craig passes the pipe to Clyde who milks the current bowl and refills a new one. "Toke, are we throwing an x-mas party?" Clyde asks the shirtless boy, pulling his dreads into a pony. His biceps flex in this motion and in my mind I swoon.

Token shrugs when he's done and says, "We just threw a party."

"Yeah, but that was a, 'get Craig some ass' party. This would be a Christmas party." I knew it. Clyde hands the pipe to Token.

"I knew you were gonna do this," Token says, sitting in a bing-bag chair near the TV.

"What are you talking about?" Clyde asks, exasperated. "This is why I didn't even want to throw _that_ party!"

"Wait," Craig interjects. " _That's_ why we threw that party? _The fuck_ , guys? We were supposed to watch _movies_!"

"I really tried to tell him, Craig," Clyde says. "I told you Token."

"Well, I wanted to throw a party! Not everything is about Craig and Tweek."

"I never said it was," Clyde replies. "And you _wanted_ some ass, bro."

And the truth comes out!

"Who?" Craig asks.

"Annie!" Clyde exclaims.

" _Again_?" Craig asks.

"Yes!" says Clyde. They both look at Token.

Token sighs, "It's not like that…"

"You two are always together now though," Clyde says.

"You know I get favorites. Bebe just finished being my favorite. I was always with her…"

"No, no, that was different," Clyde says.

"This is gross. Don't talk about them like they're not people," I complain. I know these people, jeez.

"Token, do you like Annie? Omigosh!" Clyde squeals, holding his cheeks.

"How come when I like someone you freak out on me and hate him but Token likes Annie and you couldn't contain your excitement?" Craig suddenly says.

Clyde stops and blinks at Craig. Suddenly he looks angry, "You know why, Craig."

"Here we go," Token groans, running his hand over his face.

"Nobody's gonna find out!" Craig snaps. "And- _and_ , who cares if they do? God, sometimes you are just like my mom!"

"Hey, guys, let's just smoke…"

Let's recap before I get confused because I'm starting to feel confused. Clyde and Token were supposed to invite me to movies for Craig because he liked me (these are almost the exact words he even used (in front of my own eyes)). Instead, Token turned it into a party because he wanted to fuck Red because he's starting to like her, and I guess that's a big deal. Clyde's very excited. Craig is mad at Clyde for being so excited about Token when he was so upset about Craig. There, apparently, is an apparent reason for this unbeknownst to me but isn't that they're together, or that's what they told me, at least.

Craig insulted Clyde by calling him his mom which would definitely hurt my feelings if I cared about him which I do. Clyde says, "Fuck you." Craig flips him off.

Token takes two quick hits before reaching over to pass the pipe to me. "Craig, you know why Clyde acted the way he did. Yeah, he's an idiot but he cares about you, you know that, so quit acting like an asshole, man," he says. "You know we support you."

Craig continues to frown. "Mmm," I hum. He glances at me. I pop the pipe in his mouth and light it for him. "Clyde just jealous of what we have." Craig smiles softly. I'll ask at a more appropriate time what Clyde was talking about that apparently was very apparent to all of them but not me. They clearly didn't want me to know. They were speaking in code.

"I'm sorry for being a dick," Clyde says suddenly. Craig glares in the brunette's direction. "But I still think it's a bad idea."

"Well, we're not _an idea_ anymore, Clyde! We're fucking together," Craig tells him. "And I don't want to talk about this anymore." Translation: ' _I don't want to talk about this in front of Tweek anymore'_. I get that, though I still have like no idea what they're talking about. I guess Clyde genuinely doesn't approve of our relationship which sucks considering he's Craig's closest friend. Even closer than Token, I think. Simply because Token and Craig are both pretty quiet guys. I don't think either of them likes getting into that stuff out loud unless it's someone like Clyde who is prying and you can trust

Wait a second…

"Oh, my fucking God!" I scream. "Craig!" I grab the boy next to me and hold him to my chest. "So cute, you're _so_ cute!" And to top it off when I finally let Craig go he only looked like, mildly irritated. I peck him real good on the cheek though so I think he's all better now.

"This room just got like 3% gayer," Clyde comments. He looks to Token, "I felt it." Craig flicks Clyde off.

"It's funny that Craig was the first of us to get a real type of relationship," Token says, chuckling. "I never thought Craig would end up with anyone." Token also says hi to Craig's middle finger.

"I knew he would. I knew he'd be real happy too," says Clyde. "Just not now."

"Boo- fucking- hoo, Clyde. Get over it."

"I can't wait to say, 'I told you so'."

"Clyde, c'mon," Token says.

"Pass the fucking pipe already then, I need to get high," the brunette complains. "And, Toke, put in Mario Kart. I'm bored."

I comply with Clyde's demands, passing him the pipe before I actually even take my turn and Token gets up to set up the Game Cube. Clyde takes a few more than two hits. I'm pretty sure he just killed the bowl. That's fucking it, dammit. "I wanna know," I say. "I wasn't gonna ask but since you keep talking about it in front of me, I deserve to."

"Know what?" Token asks.

"What the hell Clyde is talking about. Why are you so against us?"

Clyde sighs, "Because you're gonna-"

"Clyde, shut the fuck up! I said I didn't want to talk about this anymore!" Craig snaps.

"Jesus," Token mutters. Clyde simply shrugs and Craig starts to fill a new bowl. I pout but remain quiet for Craig. I don't want him to be upset so I move to sitting behind him so he's between my legs and wrap my arms around his, looking over his shoulder at his progress. He's done.

Craig takes two hits and then holds the pipe for me to hit twice and then everything gets taken by Token who hasn't been smoking because he's been setting up the game which, by the way, is now set up.

"We finally have a fourth player," Token points out and my heart warms. I'm their fourth player… and I totally rock at Mario Kart.

A couple of races and a few bowls later and Token's room is foggy gray and I've won every round. "Shit, Tweek," Token chuckles.

"I haven't played since elementary but holy shit, did you open Pandora's box, Token."

"Toke," he corrects. I blush but keep my eyes on the screen, hopefully Token's doing the same or I'd be embarrassed for being embarrassed.

Craig suddenly pinches my cheek. "Gah! Whaddar woo doweng?" I look to him and he's got this mean glare on. "What?"

"Stop," he just says but I get it. He's jealous of me blushing from Token and watching him when he was changing, I guess.

I shrug, "Can't help it…" Craig looks away. "Hey, it doesn't mean anything. Token's just like, really cool. I like you in a different way." When he still doesn't look satisfied I lick his nose. He scrunches it up like a cat and I mewl at him.

"Tweek," he complains.

"Craig~!" I coo.

"Can you guys stop making out and at least cross the finish line so we can go to the next map?" Clyde asks.

"I'm inviting Annie and I don't care what you guys say," Token tells us. "And I'll invite Red for you Clyde." Clyde winks at Token and I mentally gag.

"'Cause we weren't looking for like, two minutes?"

"No, because I want some ass. It'll be a small party," Token says. "For real, this time," he adds. "Because McCormick's not allowed."

Token pushes himself to his feet and stretches. "I'm gonna invite Wendy then?" I start as a statement but finish by asking them if it's okay. Token doesn't seem to mind, nodding as he exits the room with his phone, Clyde doesn't seem to care at all, and Craig is starting to lean his weight against me as if he were falling asleep or passing out or something.

"You good?" I ask him.

Craig nods and mumbles, "If they're gonna invite those people I'm gonna go somewhere else."

"Okay," I say. "Where?"

"My room, probably."

"Home?"

"No, guest room, stupid." Craig has a room in Token's house.

"Oh," I nod. "Could I come if you do?"

"I will, and I thought you were inviting Wendy. Wendy can't come."

My cheeks start to burn. Craig's so cute. I smirk, "Why can't she? What're you trying to do in this room, Craig?" Craig's eyes flick up to mine, then to my lips, then to Clyde in the background. He doesn't say anything so I do. "Must be something inappropriate. Could I join if I came?"

"You'd come if you joined." I pause at his quick response, blank-faced.

The room gets quiet. And then, Clyde starts to snicker. "Holy shit, Tweek," he says. "Get some, dude!" he laughs.

"Somebody's feisty today," I point out

Craig shrugs, "I saw an opportunity and I took it."

I finally just kiss Craig because he kept looking at me like he really wanted to. I know Clyde's probably pulling a face but who cares? If Craig wants to kiss me he just should feel like he's able to. Craig kisses back lazily and unconcerned. One of my hands finds his hair and runs through it affectionately but he puts his hand to my chest when I slyly slip my tongue past his lips. "Chill," he says.

I pout but I knew he'd stop me eventually. I know Clyde is peering at us even though he's trying to look like he isn't. He hops to his feet too, to follow Token. I follow him out with my eyes then glance back to Craig. He gives me a shrug before pecking my lips and pushing me away so he can also stand and leave the room. I groan. Where are they all going anyway? These fuckers.

I throw my legs over the edge of the bed and follow Craig toe to heel. Downstairs, I can already hear Token chuckle on the phone with Annie, I'd assume. I manage to shuffle even close to Craig, pressing my chest to his back. We have to waddle to walk together like this.

But Craig didn't say a thing about it.

Clyde is heading into the kitchen to make popcorn he announces. Craig drops himself on the couch. "Yeah, alright. See you when you get here," Token says to his pone before clicking on the screen and turning to Craig. He winks at the boy and Craig just rolls eyes.

"Stop being perfect, Toke. You're making us all feel like shit."

"Yes!" Clyde agrees, shooting out of the kitchen in an apron. "There better be a shirt n that chest before these girls show up, mister!"

Token laughs, "Whatever, man." Clyde huffs and heads back into the kitchen. "Can't help if the ladies like what they see," Token flexes.

"I'm sure the guys aren't mad either," I add. I know _I'm_ not. Craig elbows me in the ribs. " _Fuck_ , dude." Token laughs with that, 'let me in your pants' smile. "Craig, I was just joking."

"You suck," Craig mumbles.

"C'mon," I say. "Joking, Craig, I was joking."

I can't really tell how long it took Annie and Red to get here. It seemed like twenty minutes but it could've easily been an hour, the same way it could've been five minutes. Weed has a weird way of working like that.

By the time the girls arrive, Clyde's about passed out from a food comatose, Craig's snuggled completely to my side, and Token's found a nice T shirt.

Clyde resurrects himself when the doorbell rings and starts smoothing his hair over as Token stands to get it. Craig rolls his eyes and repositions, sitting upright by himself and seeming pretty pissed off about it.

Token greets the girls and invites them into the living room with us. They say hello to us. It's clear they're more comfortable with Clyde and Token. Craig and I must be like a bomb in the room- well, just me to them, I suppose. Craig's just like a potato leaning against the bomb, in a completely platonic way. Red greets me less formally than Annie, I guess because she's more of a person.

That's kind of mean. I meant that she's less popular so she- Damn, that was kind of mean too. Whatever, we hung out at Token's party. We've never talked after that but, I guess she thinks I'm okay.

The girls take seats, Red on the floor and Annie in the arm chair.

Clyde immediately starts chatting Red's ear off about the ending football season, lacrosse, stupid teachers, and looking for a job now that he's finally got his license. It's weird how different he is with her than before. He just seems like the Clyde everyone talks about. I wish he didn't hate me and Craig's thing so much because he has acted that way with me before. He's a cool dude when he doesn't hate on me. Token and Annie start talking about graduating early and the colleges they want to go to which really changed my perspective on their relationship. The whole time Craig looks like he's dead. He's just sitting on the couch staring at the TV which isn't even on the show. It's on commercial. I watch him more intrigued than worried. Craig has pulled a possum before. Maybe he's just super zoned out. I start to pick lint off the couch and start dropping pieces in his hair. I wanna see how see how many I can get without him noticing but maybe he does notice and doesn't care. Likely. Very likely.

The doorbell rings again. Token looks to me, "You invite 'em, you get the door for 'em."

I sigh at this because I know it's Wendy and then I call, "It's open!" Wendy opens the door and waves to everyone. She sits on the floor with Red. They chat about girl stuff. I'm too busy turning Craig's hair gray with specks of lint. He still hasn't shown any reaction.

"How's your head?" Wendy asks.

I shrug, "Nothing's wrong with it." Craig glances at me as soon as I'm about to drop another flake. I freeze but he turns back to the TV with the same amount of disinterest as before if not more. "Do you disagree, Mister Tucker?"

Craig flicks me off. "I need to smoke," he informs me- us- everyone heard him, I don't know who he was addressing specifically.

"Make sure you apologize to your lungs when you finish," I tell him as he walks to the porch.

"He's adorable," Wendy notes. Red and Annie agree. "An asshole," she adds. "But an adorable one."

"Have you and Bebe made up yet, Wendy?" Annie suddenly asks. The question obviously catches Wendy off guard. She kind of chuckles nervously and shrugs.

"I don't think that's gonna happen," she says. "Things just went too far I guess. I don't really want to be her friend anymore..."

"Damn, really? I told her. She just didn't care. You shouldn't be her friend even if she says sorry," Red says. "Bebe is just like that. If you're okay with that then she's fine. I just don't tell her anything important 'cause you know how she is with secrets." The girls nod.

"It's fine," Wendy assures them. "She wasn't that good of a friend anyways." _Yeah, you were only friends for like, ten years_.

"It's kind of funny though," Annie says. "The way things worked out," she explains. "How Stan's with Bebe, who was your best friend and you _were_ with Kenny, his best friend." The air is so stuck with awkward and tenseness I can't even breathe.

"Oh yeah," Wendy chuckles. "So weird..."

"Anyway," Red says, laughing awkwardly. "The winter formal? Who's going?"

I stand up and start for the door. "I want to but no one's asked me yet," Annie tells Red.

"Same, girl. If only someone asked us. Soon, preferably so we can coordinate our outfits." I gag. Heterosexuals and their sick ways.

I pull the door open and glance over my shoulder once before clicking it shut behind me. The ability to turn invisible. Kind of a lame super power. Especially when Kenny's got future vision and telepathy.

Craig is leaning against the Black's clean white painted banister, with his pack of camels peeking out his back pocket and a smoke hanging out his mouth. He looks beautiful against the white background of snow and snow covered things. His eyes especially when he turns around to see me.

He huffs a cloud of smoke from his nose and takes the cigarette from his mouth. "What?"

I shrug and walk up to the railing next to him. I fold my arms over it and rest my weight against it. "I don't like people and they started talking about awkward stuff. I got uncomfortable." Craig doesn't say anything in response, simply puffs smoke out like a train or one of those big delivery trucks. "It's pretty cold. We shouldn't stay out here."

"Yeah," Craig surprisingly agrees but unsurprisingly doesn't move to leave or anything of the sort.

"Let's ditch 'em," I suggest, assuming there's another way in that doesn't involve walking through the front door past them- assuming that, which isn't an irrational idea, considering Token has a secret room in his closet, Craig knows where it is for sure. I bet he even found it on his own. I bet Token doesn't even know about it himself.

Craig peers at me under his reapplied hat. He reflects on the offer then looks back to me, "And do what?" I flash my eyebrows at him. He blushes and looks away.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? You're hickys all faded and shit." I grab his collar and pull it revealing his neck and collar. "I can barely even see it anymore. Yours weren't very good anyways but you were working on it, I could tell."

Craig groans, "Shut up, man." He doesn't say anything after that so I blink at him until he notices. "Let me finish my cigarette."

"You're gonna smoke the whole thing?" I click my tongue and shake my head disapprovingly.

"People stress me out."

"Smoke pot," I tell him.

"It doesn't make a difference, Tweek." _Tweek_.

I smile softly, "Get a vape."

"You get a vape, Tweek." _Tweek_.

"If I do, will you use it?"

Craig snorts, "No."

"You're a dick to lungs," I tell him. "Unnecessarily so," I add.

"Sue me."

"Let me try," I say. When he glances at me, I point to his cigarette.

Craig's brow furrow, "No fucking way."

My brow furrows the same way. "What'd you mean 'no fucking way'?" I mock his tone.

"Why would I offer you addiction to something that tears your lungs up and makes you feel like shit?"

I scoff, "Craig, that doesn't make any fucking sense."

"It makes complete sense, Tweek." _Tweek_. And, what the fuck? _How_?

"You're contradicting yourself right now. If you thinking smoking is so bad why is it okay for you to do it but I can't try it?"

"Not by my hand," he says. "And I know it's bad but I'm addicted and I'm not ready to try to quit."

"'Try to,' meaning that you don't think you'd be successful."

"Nope," he says taking a long drag. He coughs after this. "Feels good," he says. "Especially when it's cold like this. It makes me feel not so cold or something. I don't know." I nod. I feel like even though Craig is far from articulate, I get what he's trying to explain. "I'll quit when I graduate and leave this shit hole."

"Hmm," I hum. "Talk more."

"What?"

"You never do. I like it though so keep going."

"What do you want me to talk about?" Craig exhales smoke as he says this.

I shrug, "Yourself. Your interests. Your dislikes. Your turn on's. The basics, I guess."

"Jesus Christ, Tweek." _Tweek_.

"I love that you say my name so much." Craig sighs. "Hurry and finish that cigarette then. I wanna kiss you." Craig's lips look so nice right now, enclosed around that cigarette. They're so delegate and soft looking and a nice pink which looks amazing with his tan skin. The one he gets in the summer from being outside for so long. I don't know why he's outside a lot in the summer or if he's outside just as much in the winter. His skin isn't that much paler but it makes everything look different. "And it's freezing balls out here."

Craig finally blows out the last of the smoke while twisting his cigarette out on the banister tarnishing it's pure white. "'Kay," he says walking off the porch and around to the side of the house. I follow.

Disappointingly, Craig only takes us to the back door to the house. I don't know why I had such high expectations for like, an entrance through a bunker or some emergency underground escape route. He did though, have to find the spare key which was in a faux birds nest (fucking rich people). That was pretty cool to watch. Craig's an experienced tree climber.

I'm glad to be back inside the heated house and while we're in the kitchen anyways I grab a bag of cookies out of the cupboard. Craig and I head upstairs from the kitchen and he takes me a few rooms away from Token's. Downstairs everyone laughs. I walk in the dark room and Craig turns the light on before shutting the door quickly. "How many rooms are in this house?"

"A lot," Craig answers vaguely. Then, "Too many," he corrects. "Since Tokens the only one ever really here anyways."

"That's why this is a nice party house. A lot of rooms to pass out in. Not so crowded. Like a jumbo slumber party."

"I guess," he says. "I always sleep in that hidden room alone for the parties. I don't come back out until my hangovers better and everyone's gone." Oh, _that's surprising_.

This room is the smallest I've seen in Token's house and that includes bathrooms. It just has a king bed with some basic sheets, a nightstand on either side, a matching dresser at the end of the bed, and a flat screen hanging on the wall above it. There's a single painting on the wall near a window, the only window, and I'm sure it's just to keep the walls from being bare.

Craig drops himself onto the bed and I flick the lights back off. "When Token said he couldn't believe that you were the first to be in a real relationship, did it offend you?"

Craig shrugs, "He could've meant a lot of things."

I walk over to the bed and start to push him back against the mattress. "Like?"

"I don't know. _I_ didn't think I'd ever be with anyone. If I did it was after graduating because I'd be out of this shit town and away from my parents," Craig says. "So it could've been because of that or because of my personality-"

"I love your personality."

"Or like, because of my parents... I don't think Token would say it to mean offense."

"Yeah," I rest my body weight on my forearms and elbows, holding myself above my sad lonely little niorette. His eyes are glued to my lips and just about everything except my eyes. "What about what Clyde was talking about?"

Craig's eyes roll and he sighs, "Don't bother listening to Clyde."

"Everyone knew except me and I think it's why he doesn't like me. Shouldn't I get to know why he doesn't like me at least? Not that I give a shit, 'cause I don't." I just wanna know if it's not that they had a thing why this kid hates me so much, I guess because of Craig being my not-boyfriend and because I'm forced to hang around Clyde now too.

"It's not like what you think," Craig says disgustedly.

"Then what is it like?"

"It's none of your fucking business, Tweek. Just let it go."

"How can I possibly, when you all keep bringing it up?"

Craig looks like he's getting mad so I drop my weight on him and apologize. "It's just, you two are so close and he's like one of the only people who knows about you and then about us too and like he also hates me? So what would _you_ think?"

"I think I'd have a little more faith in you."

Well, fucking shit, I'm an asshole, aren't I? "What Clyde was implying was something stupid and irrelevant and it's the past so it doesn't fucking matter anymore like, at all. Clyde and I aren't, never were, never will be anything more than friends and we've never kissed ever."

"Was I your first kiss?" I ask into his neck.

Craig shifts under me, "Fucking duh."

I snicker, "It would've been rude for me to assume, Craig."

"I think it's rude you even asked," he says but I don't think he really thought it was. "Was it... bad?" he asks after a while.

"Mm," I breathe against his skin. "No, I don't think so. Just unpracticed. I love your mouth though- and your kisses. I promise." With that I apply a soft kiss to Craig's neck.

"You're a dick."

"But like, a fun, lovable one right?"

Craig snorts, "Sure."

I smile. "That's good." I kiss Craig again. This is so weird. I, myself never saw me being capable of forming a real relationship with anyone especially here in South Park. I thought this town was full of boring red necks with half the population even being varying percentages of homophobic. But, I never thought of leaving. Not that I wanted to stay I just never think of the future except when I think my parents might ship me off to a mental institution or one of those rehabilitation camps that religious parents send their gay kids to make them 'better'. Where would I go? My parents wouldn't approve it so I'd be all on my own. I don't like being alone. Could I even be without my parents? I know they suck and everything but like, my world practically revolves around them doesn't it?

I start applying open mouth kisses all along Craig's neck, still pretty deep in thought.

All I know is that I want to stay with Craig. Isn't that crazy? And I know things can change. I'm aware of that but right now I just don't want him to go and I want him to be happy. I think- And I think maybe I could do that. Make Craig happy.

My hand runs down his abdominal and stops at the stop of his jeans.

Craig lets out a breath, it's sounds so loud but I know it probably wasn't. Still, it echoes in my mind. Craig's face turns into mine. I face him to capture his lips. His kissing has picked up speed. I grab his hip, slipping my last fingers beneath his jeans. "Craig," I say against his mouth. I kiss him again and work on getting his jeans undone.

What do the others think we're doing? They probably still think we're outside or something. Maybe they've also departed to their own private rooms, too preoccupied to even think of our activities. If they go outside and we're gone though...

I chuckle. Craig wouldn't think it was funny but gosh, they'd probably joke about us sneaking off to make out when that's really what we're doing.

We kiss lazily for a long time before I actively pursue getting his jeans unbuttoned. A hard task for one hand alone (also happens to be my right hand (which is not my dominate one)). When I get it done I grab his pant loop and gently tug them lower. Craig helps, kicking his his legs to get them off. His boxers ride down with them. He looks amazing.

I want to ask him what he's gonna do when he leaves. I have a strong belief that he really will. I wonder if he wants to continue with school or if he just wants a job or a profession. Shit, I don't even know Craig's aspirations. In my defense, with Craig being the potato he is, it's easy to assume he doesn't have any. Especially since I do not.

Craig pulls on my shirt so I pull it over my head and toss it. "We should just take all our clothes off so they don't get dirty," I joke. I mean I'm joking but we really should. Craig seems to have the same thought because he starts pulling his shirt over his head, so I start to undo my jeans and kick them off.

Once we're both in our boxers I press my body on Craig's and kiss him again. I have to get out of my head or I won't enjoy this and that would be a tragedy. My hands are on Craig's thighs and his are in my hair, wrapped around my locks tightly. It feels amazing even though I know it hurts, the pain doesn't register because I know it means I'm making Craig feel good. I dip my face back in the crook of his neck, attacking the skin with my teeth as my hands slide around to the back of his thigh and up, shifting our body's up and further onto the bed, also resulting in me grinding against Craig. He holds in a noise and lets out a strangled breath. I smirk. Once again it sounds loud compared to the silence we previously had but I know there's no possible way anyone outside the room could hear us. Still, Craig's so cute.

I reach for the front of his boxers and stroke him through the fabric. His breathing gets heavy and loud. I wish he'd be even louder though. I run circles around the tip of his head. His precome seeps through the fabric and coats my skin. "Mm," I hum into his throat. I can feel Craig's heart pounding and his breathing quicken and his skin get warmer. When he bucks his hips into my hand I lower his boxer enough to expose his member and take him completely in my hand. "When we weren't together, did you think about me?" I ask him.

Craig responds with just heavy breathing.

"Did you think about me touching you?" I ask. "Did you think about me touching myself," I add. Craig whimpers. Cute; so cute. "Did you?" I persist. Craig closes his eyes and nods. "Did it make you feel horny?"

"Jesus Christ, Tweek."

"Did you jack off thinking about me?" I whisper, huskily.

"C'mon," he says, whole face red like a tomato answering my question without words. I want to paint him just like this.

My hand stops it's movements. "Did you, Craig?"

"God, you suck," he pants.

"It's just a question, Craig. Are you embarrassed?" I lift my face to look at his. He's red as a tomato or even like ketchup or something that's extensively red to express how I'm exaggerating the color of his face. "C'mon, everyone does it. I won't judge you. It'll only flatter me and I'm not gonna finish until you do," I tighten my grip on him to let him know what I mean.

Craig groans. "Yeah, I did. Happy?" So cute.

"You're too good for me." I nuzzle my face into him.

He chuckles, "You're too much for me."

I continue to stroke Craig while I nip at his throat some more. I know it's probably all red and patchy. I might've even left a hicky. It's okay though. I don't know why but it just is.

Craig's hands let go of my hair and start for my boxers. He reaches in and pulls out my erection and grips it firmly. I moan into his neck. "Tweek," he says. I moan again. If only he'd pull my hair again. I start to stroke Craig faster and he mimics me. When Craig starts to reach his edge I start to reach mine. I grab his free hand and drag it to my head. He gets it and starts to loop his fingers around my blonde strands. "Pull it," I say. Craig's grip tightens and he pulls hard as he comes. I groan and come right after him. I sigh contently, my whole body relaxing.

Craig's digits loosen in my hair and he starts to even out his breathing. I try to imitate when his chest rises and falls. When we've both caught our breaths, Craig drops his head back and sighs, "That was nice."

"Thanks." I roll off of him to cuddle him.

"I need to take a shower."

"Yeah," I say, half tuned out. My head feels so clear and fuzzy. Craig's so warm and soft. I'm gonna nap.

"I think I'm gonna take one," Craig says.

"A what?" Craig hits the side of my head. I groan. He just jumbled up my clear head! "Craig, what the fuck?"

"You weren't listening to me, asshole."

"What then?"

"I just said I was gonna take a shower soon."

"That's lovely, Craig. You want a fucking prize?" Craig flicks me off. "I'm taking a nap. Now shush."

"You're not gonna take one?"

"Maybe later," I snuggle Craig harder. "Why are obsessing about this shower, man?"

"I mean if you're gonna take one anyways," he says. I reposition so I can see the side of his face. "We could take one together..."

I stare at him, "We could." I smirk. Craig's the best.

One shower later and I've discovered Craig's turn on. Also, really nice shower. Craig and I come back downstairs probably an hour later me, sporting my post shower hair and Craig, wearing his hat again to hide that we both took a shower. Even though there's enough bathrooms in the house for us to have been able to shower separately, why even risk it? It seems like everyone's returned in different spots this time.

Annie is snuggled up all cozy to Token on the couch. Wendy is sitting next to them. Red and Clyde share the arm chair. When Craig and I enter the room falls eerily silent. There's no way they'd know we showered together or made out. Unless they heard us which (and I'm the most paranoid person ever) they didn't. Well, maybe the shower, Craig was being pretty loud...

That was a joke.

Craig seems unconcerned though so... I should also be unconcerned. Craig takes the last chair so I'm forced to the floor. It's literally so quiet and no one seems to want to break the ice. Why is there even ice to break? What happened while we were gone?

I look over everyone's face. Token looks sympathetic and Annie looks like she's pretending to not look at me. Clyde looks pissed and Red seems to be trying to comfort him. Wendy looks the worst. If she was uncomfortable before, now, she looks absolutely miserable. She won't look up at all.

She's surprisingly however the first to speak. "I have to go. I'm... sorry, guys," she says. Wendy stands, grabs her stuff, and rushes out.

"What's wrong with Wendy?" I ask once she's gone.

"I think we should go too," Red says. "Let's go, Annie." Annie nods to the redhead and they gather their belongings like Wendy and kiss (their 'whatever) Clyde and Token (are supposed to be to them now') goodbye. The girls leave.

"That was fucking weird," I say. Clyde and Token say nothing.

"What's going on?" Craig demands.

When he realizes Clyde isn't going to answer, he turns to Token. Token takes a moment to think over how he's gonna say whatever he's gonna say. He starts, "I want you to find your most rational state."

This isn't good. "Wendy accidentally... told Annie and Red about you and Tweek."

It sounds how I imagine outer space would sound. It's completely silent but it's one of those silences that you know is the quiet before the storm. I'm too scared to look at Craig but I do. He looks like a potato again. That is to say, he looks like nothing. Then, his face turns red.

"How. The. _Fuck_."

I cringe. Clyde shakes his head. Token says, "Craig, breathe."

" _How the fuck does someone_ 'accidentally' _do that_?" Craig's voice is so venomous and angry. I didn't know he could feel so strongly about anything especially since... I don't know what I thought. Craig's really mad.

"It's only two people," Token tries.

Craig laughs and it sends a shutter down my spine, "That's like 2% of our town's population, Token! They'll tell their friends who will tell their friends who will tell their siblings and the siblings will tell their parents! It's over, man!" Craig stands, raking his hands through his hair, knocking off his hat and not even caring. "My dad's never gonna look at me the same way again! My mom's either gonna think I'm some attention whore liar or- or like, a legit abomination because some stupid bitch couldn't keep her trap shut in front of her whore friends."

My throat closes. "We just had to invite them over, huh Token? Right? Wendy too, Tweek?" Suddenly I wish he wouldn't use my name. "Because she's your 'best friend'. You only like her 'cause she's just as fucked up as you!"

My heart sinks. I feel like a potato. That is to say, I feel like nothing.

"Craig," Token snaps. "No more!" Craig stops and breathes heavily. "I get that you're upset but you're hurting people to make yourself feel better and that doesn't even work. You're just making it worse."

"You don't get it, Token. Because you have everything and you're perfect."

"Craig, c'mon," Token sighs. "You know that's not true."

"I bet you're happy, Clyde. It finally happened. You were right. You gonna tell me you told me so?"

"You already know. There's no need."

"Fuck you, Clyde. You're just jealous that I hang out with him more than you."

"Oh yeah, that's it. Grow up, Craig," Clyde says. "Go take a minute to breathe and cool down. Smoke a cigarette or something because when you realize what you just said, you're gonna feel even more like shit. Stop while you're still a little bit ahead." Craig's already storming out before Clyde can finish. He slams the door behind him.

"God damn it," Token swears.

Craig hates me. I said I know things changed but he changed so fast. One minute we were completely happy, the next he's calling me a freak.

"Craig's only upset, Tweek. Don't take it to heart," Clyde tells me.

How do I not take that to heart? How do they know he won't storm back in here, fight us all, and break up with me forever? I guess they know him better than I do but I only say that because this is the first time I've seen Craig act like this and it scares me. I knew he didn't like his parents, the situation, or people finding out but we always joke around about it. I don't actually care and I thought maybe, if it actually happened to happen neither would he.

But now it seems completely different and only two additional people know. How could something so insignificant make such an impact on him, on us, on my whole life? I'm being dramatic. Am I? Craig called me fucked up. I laugh. He said I was fucked up. Craig's the one that's fucked up though.

"Are you okay?"

Why are people always asking me that?

"He didn't mean it, Tweek. C'mon,"

I can't hear them. I hear them but I can't listen to what they're saying. I know Craig's just upset. He probably didn't mean any of it. He insulted Token too for Christ sake. But, then, why do I feel so scared or nervous like this is the end of the world and I can't properly breathe anymore no matter how hard I try to.

"Dude, he's having a panic attack or something."

I close my eyes. This can't be happening. I'm fine. I'm fine. Count to ten. I'm just a little shocked. I'm fine. Craig's fine or he will be but what if it happens again? What if his parents find out? What would he do then?

"What are we supposed to do?"

God. Nothing's fine. Should I have gone after him? What if he punched me in the face? I'd still probably like him. That's terrible. I really like him a lot but now I don't know what's gonna happen. Why did I even have to go and kiss him all wasted at that party? If I hadn't none of this would've happened. Why couldn't I have just fucked him like all the other guys?

Because Craig isn't like the other guys and I know that.

"Stop it, you're gonna pull your hair out of your head and then what?" Token tells me, taking my hands and putting them in my lap. He looks into my eyes so intensely that I can't hold his gaze and look away. "You have to listen to me, Tweek. This isn't a big deal."

"It's not a deal at all," Clyde says.

"Craig's not even mad, he's just really scared." Token's right. Craig's probably terrified. To him, this is really the end. Not only of us, if that was even a concern to him, but of his family and the relationships he has with them. I wonder what he's doing out there. I run my hands through my hair.

Nothing is helping me right now. I feel so trapped and suffocated. If I can't get out of here I'm gonna kill myself.

"Clyde, go make some tea." Clyde leaves to the kitchen. Token sits beside me and watches me tremble. "Can I... do anything to help you?"

I let out a particularly heavy breath before shrugging. "I- I don't know. I- it's just- it's never this bad..." I say. "I just need to breathe and it'll go away."

"I don't think trying to suppress it's gonna work."

Once again, Token is right. I twitch. I want to die. I just twitched! How embarrassing... "I d- don't know what else to d- do," I admit. Usually my panic attacks just happen and it's like whatever and I'm alone and just wait it out. This one is making me feel terrible. Like the rooms too small, like I'm gonna feel like this forever, and like my heads gonna explode from all the thoughts pushed in there.

Token sighs and kneels down next to me. He says, "Okay, sit up." I obey. "Close your eyes," he orders. I shut my eyes tight. "No, like, relax." I relax my face. "Now relax your shoulders." My shoulders drop. "Okay, now, don't focus on your breathing. Just breathe and notice how you breathe."

Even though that doesn't make any fucking sense, I try Token's method. "If you start thinking about something else just go back to think about your natural breathing."

I'm breathing pretty fast and my heart won't stop acting like I'm running continuously but I just focus on my breath. In and out. Fast, fast, even, even, slow, and slower. "Don't think about what's gonna happen tomorrow or next month. Be here, think about now."

"Craig is mad," I tell him. "Or upset. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Oh," Token says. "We just have to wait it out. He does this all the time when he js too many emotions. Usually angry ones but he's just upset. Maybe mad at Wendy." I blink. So, what? Is he just gonna come back eventually acting fine about everything? I don't believe it. "How do you feel?"

What a dumb question to ask someone. "I feel fine," is my automatic response but when Token doesn't reply I continue. "I'm still anxious and nervous as fuck about Craig and about Annie fucking knowing now but I think I'm okay..."

"Good," says Token. I just nod.

Clyde reenters the room holding a tray with three mugs balanced atop it. He hands the first one to me, then one to Toke, and takes the final mug for himself, sitting criss cross across from us.

I'd ask how it happened but I don't want to know. I feel like it was just some stupid slip while they were talking about Craig and I leaving for so long which I assumed would come up but I also asides our friends would cover us with, 'they're just antisocial ', not 'yeah, they're probably making out'.

I don't want to be mad at Wendy but if Craig isn't okay then I can't help being anything except that.

We all sip our teas quietly. It feels like forever before my mugs empty but when it finally is the front door opens and an apathetic Craig Tucker emerges from the shadows. He stares at us before joining our tea party and sighs. "Sorry."

I don't look up and Token and Clyde don't say anything. "Say something," the boy snaps.

"I'm sorry this happened. I wish I could've prevented it," says Token.

"I'm gonna fucking murder Wendy," Craig tells us. "I'm gonna climb through her window at night and put a fucking plastic bag over her head."

"It was an accident, Craig. And we made them promise not to say anything," Clyde says.

" _Oh_ ," Craig says exaggeratedly. "Oh, _thank God_! Because they _promised_ they definitely won't tell anyone! Not their parents or friends or anything!"

"Dude, chill. They won't. It's Annie and Red."

Craig simply scoffs. It's quiet once more. Token gives Clyde a look and then announces, "Welp, it's been a long day. I'm gonna take a shower, order a pizza, and then get ready for bed."

Clyde rolls his eyes at the dark skinned boy. "You two should talk," Clyde says, pushing to his feet. "I'm gonna go somewhere else."

"You should take a shower too, Clyde. You fucking stink."

"Fuck you, Craig," Clyde says. "Replace your tampon before you get TSS."

Craig flicks Clyde off. Clyde leaves. It was an obvious attempt at getting us alone that I appreciate. I think. Craig could still be mad because he's weird like that. So even after the brunette is gone I stay silent with my mug. Craig isn't talking either which just makes it worse because I don't know what he's thinking. He could just start yelling at any moment.

"You're shaking," he says. I'm really trembling. I always shake but when I'm nervous and it's noticeable I tremble. I swallow and nod. "I'm not mad, Tweek."

"I know," I tell him. But he's really upset and people who are really upset are really rash. Rash decisions are always regrets.

"Then why are you acting like a kicked puppy." Well, you did genuinely say I was fucked up to my face. Craig must realize this because he stops and says, "I didn't mean what I said. I was just upset."

"Yeah," I say. I know that. Token told me that. Craig is probably still terrified and I'm being a dick. This all just feels so... gross. Annie and Red finding out. Wendy telling them. Craig calling me fucked up. Now I have to act like it didn't hurt my feelings.

"Then-" Craig says but stops. "Stop acting like a dead battery." I feel like a dead battery.

"I'm sorry they found out." If we weren't together there wouldn't be anything to find out.

"It's okay. I wish they didn't know but they do now and there's nothing we can do about it so whatever." Whatever, he says. I laugh. _Whatever_. Yeah. Whatever. No big deal. "What's funny?"

"That this sucks so bad. It shouldn't matter at all."

"You're right," he says. Craig glances at the mug in my hands and then my face. He looks back to the stairs where the shower can be heard running and scoots close to me. "Tweek." _Tweek_.

"What?"

"Do you ever feel like you're wrong? Like..." Craig doesn't actually continue.

"Wrong like, how?"

"Like," Craig says. "It's just, sometimes my parents talk about it. They say things like it's a choice and... people who are gay are just going down the wrong path. Why..." Craig trails off. He glances at me, "Why am I this way then? Because I would never choose this path."

I look at Craig. His head is resting in his hand and his hair, short as it is shagging over his face so I can't see his eyes. "I tried to like girls," he said. "Then I decided I'd just rather be alone." God damn. Craig would rather be alone his whole life than upset his parents with the possibility he might be gay.

"Where do you wanna go?" I ask him. "When you leave."

Craig shrugs. "Anything is an improvement," he say. "But somewhere warm. I hate the winters here."

"A city?"

"Hell no. I hate abundances of people."

"Oh," I say. "So, another small town?"

"Maybe somewhere that's nowhere. So, I don't have to deal with anyone at all."

"You won't get lonely?"

Craig shrugs. "I don't have to be by myself." I'm about to invite myself when Craig clarifies, "My guinea pigs."

I laugh, "Don't be a dick, Craig."

* * *

 _supes long chapter. ur welcome. I didn't really proof read. ill do it latr. sorree XD_


	16. She Said

**Chapter Track: Real by Years & Years**

Somehow, I fell asleep. Last night I slept with Craig. Well, I didn't _sleep_ with him, just in the same bed. After everyone said goodnight we retreated to our own separate room like it was a regular occurrence that happened naturally and much to my surprise, Token and Clyde (but mostly Clyde) didn't say anything about it. I think Craig appreciated this the most.

At first we pretended that we were normal people who actually went to sleep. After half an hour of just lying in bed pretending to sleep and finding out we were both actually still awake, we engaged in a game of twenty-one questions (initiated by me, of course). We didn't do too much even though we had our own room, mostly just talked. We did kiss a little bit. I'm not sure at what point I fell asleep but I'm glad I finally did even if it was only for a few hours.

I think I could've slept longer but I woke up and Craig was gone. The bedroom door was cracked and the hall light was seeping through. I assumed he had just gone to the bathroom but, of course I couldn't seem to get back to sleep. I wondered if I dosed off before or after Craig and if he stayed awake and watched me breathe. It's something I would totally do and I don't judge him if he did but then I heard a door open and shut. It wasn't the bathroom, I could tell. None of this bothered me until I heard them talking.

It was only faint whispers but I could recognize the voices; Craig and Clyde's voices. I flipped the covers off of myself and rolled out of bed. Creeping towards the door, I could start to make out the words.

"It's like, four in the morning."

"No fucking shit, Clyde."

"How're you doing?"

"How does it _fucking_ look like I'm doing?"

"Is it an attack? Tweek had a panic attack too. I think it was more because you walked out though and less about people knowing." Craig doesn't say anything. "I'm sorry… about earlier. It wasn't cool."

There was a sudden shaky sigh and I could tell it was Craig but it sounded so broken that I tip toed to the door further to peek out. There was no way Craig was…

"It's only two people. It's just Annie and Red. They gossip all the time…" Clyde said. "No one would even believe them if they did tell- which, they _won't_."

It's so quiet. I can see the bathroom door open and I can barely make them out in the mirror.

"Craig," Clyde said. "Craig," he repeats. "C'mon, man, let me know you're gonna be okay…"

Craig's only response is a hoarse, "I will be." He's hunched over the sink. Is he crying? About today? Is this what Clyde was talking about? This is probably what he was talking about the whole time.

"Talk to me," Clyde then said.

Craig said, "I can't fucking believe you let this happen."

Clyde laughed, " _You_ let this happen when you started dating him."

"Dating," Craig repeated. "I guess," he said. "I don't want this to end badly. I don't want it to end at all but," he paused. "If my parents find out- fuck- Ruby already knows." Craig buried himself in his hands.

"It will work out. There's nothing you could do to make your parents not love you. Trust me."

Craig took a few hesitant moments before replying with a stiff, "Okay."

I ran and hopped onto the bed, wrapping the blankets around me again. I heard the water run and then the bathroom door shut. I heard the boys mumble a little more before Token's door shuts and then our door behind Craig.

My heart was racing when I heard him make his way around the bed. Craig crawled in after that. I could hear him sniffling. He stayed on his side and for the rest of the night I sat, staring at the ceiling thinking about that conversation, our relationship, and Craig… crying? I made him cry. I should've been there for him more. Today was hard for him. Clyde even told me- and the fact that he even _had to tell me_ \- and I didn't comfort Craig enough. I couldn't even tell he was that upset about it. He needed me and I wasn't good enough. Why was this the one night I fell asleep? If I had stayed awake, I could've been there, not Clyde. Fuck.

In the morning Clyde comes in to wake us up. When he opens the door we share a shocked expression. Clyde's quickly fades. He glances to Craig's sleeping figure. "How is he?" It's funny when you know things you aren't supposed to know, seeing people lie and pretend so flawlessly.

"Craig's fine."

Clyde nods, "I've been meaning to talk to you." I raise my eyebrows, expectantly. "It's about Craig." Naturally. "He's… more sensitive than he'd ever let anyone know… I don't know. Maybe you already know that…" I nod. Clyde groans, "I don't know. I care about Craig a lot and I'm worried about him right now, especially with all that's going on. He's not used to this and I think it scares him. Can you just promise me, Tweek- and I mean this seriously- I know you have this idea that Craig and I have a… 'thing'? Or whatever but, just promise me you'll take care of him and pay attention to him. He's not the easiest to read."

I nod. "Yeah, Clyde, of course."

"Okay," Clyde says, nodding in thought. "Wake the beast. We gotta get ready for school." And with that, Clyde leaves.

I look to the sleeping niorette beside me. He looks dead but he's not. I checked. He just breathes crazily soft when he sleeps. I check again just to make sure. He's breathing. He stirs and mumbles incoherently. Night terrors? He moves a lot like this in his sleep. It's probably those nightmares he told me about. I frown at his discomfort.

"Craig," I shake his shoulder. He grunts. I shake a little more firmly. "Wake up." Craig sighs heavily so I know he heard me and is awake but he doesn't move. I narrow my eyes. "We have to go to school."

"Fuck school…" Craig mumbles.

"While I agree, wholeheartedly with that statement, we still have to go. It's the law or something stupid like that."

Craig seems to take a few seconds to consider this as there's a moment of silence before he responds. "I'm old enough to drop out."

" _Drop out_?" Jesus Christ! "What about your future? Maybe you don't want to go to college now but what if ten years from now you do and then you have to go back to high school but then you'd be like thirty and all the kids would make fun of you because you'd probably be out by that point and old so-"

Craig suddenly shoots up, " _Okay_ , Tweek. I wasn't being serious." I pout at his outburst. "I'm just tired," Craig tries to explain.

I eye him suspiciously, "You slept a long time." Considering Craig and I do not sleep on a regular sleeping schedule.

He looks down, "Yeah?" I nod. "Well, I still am."

"You don't have to go today."

Craig shrugs, "It's the last day before Christmas break. Whatever."

"Are you okay?" I ask, brushing the short black bangs from his forehead. "You seem weird."

"I'm probably just laggy 'cause I slept so long." Craig looks me straight in the eyes but I don't look away. I'm proud to say I kept his gaze and it wasn't even that scary.

"…Okay," I accept.

Twenty minutes later and we're piled in Token's car, driving to school. Craig still seems… weird and not his normal weird. It's like a melancholy weird. He's just leaning on his hand, staring out the window with his Craig face. I don't know if I'm supposed to hug him or leave him alone. So I opt for grabbing his hand (the one that isn't holding his face). He glances at me when I do and I offer him a gentle smile. _Just letting you know that I'm weird too so you can vent your weird thoughts to me and I'll be your crutch when you're sad about your anal parents_.

Craig doesn't smile back but I don't think it's his nature to. Instead, he laces our fingers together before returning his attention to the passing scenery. I smile to myself.

Yesterday Craig asked me if I ever felt like I was wrong. I still don't get what he meant. Wrong like, I might not be gay? Or wrong in _being_ gay?

The ride is relatively quiet besides Clyde who is always talking. I've learned to tune him out by now just like Token and Craig seem to do naturally.

We pull into the school parking lot, park, and exit Token's luxury vehicle. "So, I'm gonna take her out to a nice dinner and then like, I'm gonna have the chef bring out the appetizer and the food on the plate is gonna spell out, 'winter formal?'" Clyde rambles as we enter the school. "Too much?"

Something's not right.

"No, you're right. It's just a winter formal… I should take her to dinner and just ask her. You think if I try to smash, she'll get upset?"

The deeper we walk through the halls, the more apparent it becomes that we're being watched. Initially, I dismiss this as my constant paranoia until Clyde says, "This is…" He shoots a look to Craig too but then shakes his head. "There's no way."

A few more steps proves that there is, in fact, a way because written sloppily on Craig's locker as well as mine in what appears to be permanent Sharpie marker is the word _FAG_. We all slowly stop. "Why couldn't Wendy just keep her fucking mouth shut?" Clyde's entirely right. If Wendy hadn't said anything then Red and Annie wouldn't have found out and none of this would be happening. But, she did, because I invited her. _Why did I invite her?_ This is essentially all my fault.

I glance to Craig. His expression is unreadable. It's that same Craig face; the same one from the car, the same one from last night, the same one from the day I fought Cartman, so, I don't know what he's thinking but I can assume it's not good.

"It's only been a day," Clyde snaps, exasperated. "It's not possible!"

"Would you lower your voice," Token snaps back at the brunette, irritably. I think, this is the first time I've seen Token genuinely angry. I wonder if he blames Wendy like Clyde or Annie and Red. I know none of them blame me, but they're bias. Because this gets traced back to me no matter how you look at it.

This feels so wrong and weird. Everyone is staring and whispering and for once, it isn't my paranoia. It's real. This is real. What are we gonna do now? Craig was right. Once it gets out, it'll spread like an epidemic. This town's too small for secrets. Someone will tell their parents and then eventually it'll get back to our own. Then, Craig's gonna get shipped off to Jesus camp and hate me forever.

Craig walks to his locker and starts to enter his combination so, I do the same. What a stupid word. It's just a dumb word so why is it so hurtful? I don't particularly find it offensive but I don't care about a lot of things. I don't know how Craig feels about it. He acted like he didn't even see it but I feel like, considering last night and yesterday and everything that's ever happened to us, he's affected somehow. Whether he's decided he doesn't give a shit anymore and is gonna be gay or is completely devastated because he knows his world's coming crashing down. But, how am I supposed to comfort him? I don't think _he_ even knows what he needs. Still, standing across the hall like this at our lockers, I feel like I shouldn't go back over there; like, Craig doesn't want me too. What a stupid fucking meaningless word.

I slam my locker shut and storm off down the hall to sit and sulk in my first period until the bell actually rings. I may even get harassed today. I get harassed but not daily. Most people treat me like an atomic bomb that'll only go off if I'm disturbed or touched the wrong way but, today's a special occasion. Worst of all, Cartman's back too so, I know he's probably heard and is ecstatic about the news.

* * *

 _fml. review if ur a critic, if u like it, or if u have any suggestions or ideas. Leave me music if u want to. cool. bye._


	17. Blue Tips

**Chapter Track: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood**

Third period finds me slouched against the cold brick wall of the smoker's alley. I didn't make it through first period. I felt like I was gonna die and I'm terrified that if I go back inside those tiny claustrophobic classrooms it'll happen again. I have nothing to smoke and honestly, I don't even want to, which, seems to me the saddest thing that's happened today. I wonder what Craig's doing…

What a way to return, am I right? First day back, last day before break, four periods left, and I've only attended a quarter of a class. Whatever, nobody's gonna care and I have good enough grades, I guess. I should've just stayed home. Stupid peer pressure from stupid Wendy who couldn't keep her stupid mouth shut.

"Tweek."

My head whips to the mouth of the alley. Speak of the _stupid_ devil. How childish do I sound? Ha.

Wendy slowly drags her ugly snow boots through the ice until she's standing over me. She lowers herself until she's squatting beside me. "Um," she starts so 'eloquently'. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I tell her evenly. "It was bound to happen."

"I just wish it wasn't my fault though," she tells me. "I just got comfortable. I forgot that they didn't know."

"Yeah," I say. I wonder what Craig's doing…

Wendy suddenly grabs my hand, holding it to her face. "Holy shit, Tweek! How long have you been out here?" I shrug. "You're like, totally blue," she says, showing me my own blue hand. "You're freezing." By now I'm numb so it doesn't even matter. Wendy doesn't seem to get this as she persistently insists I go inside and warm up. I don't want to go back in that cage though. I'd much rather freeze to death out here. But, I do wonder what Craig is doing.

She finally gives, "Fine, whatever." That certainly didn't take long. "Well, did you hear about the fight?"

"Fight?" I ask. She nods slowly. "Who?" Generally, I don't care about fights because I never know the people who fought and I think the whole thing is stupid; kids getting so hype over it all, I mean.

"Kenny and Stan," Wendy says, leaning on her arm to move into an Indian style sitting. I raise my eyebrows at her and she nods.

"Why?"

"Um," Wendy looks off into the distance. "Me... I guess?"

"Stan found out about you and Kenny?"

"Yeah," Wendy says. "He was super pissed. I couldn't tell why." Well, I said it was fucked up from the beginning but I doubt this is what Wendy wants to hear. Who knows though? Maybe this makes her happy. Turns out that the two people she cared about that she thought didn't give a shit, give _enough_ of a shit to kick the crap out of each other over her. But I don't know what girls think. They're crazy.

"Perhaps," I start. "And this is just a wild hunch but, they care about you." Or it was a fucked up thing to do (sleep with your best friends ex intentionally and without asking (oh, and then just tossing her away like spoiled beans (how fucking gross was that simile?))). I'm sure she knows this though. I don't see the point in mentioning it other than pissing her off which I do actually consider for a hot minute because of what she did to me and Craig but, I firmly believe in karma so I'd rather not add that to my long list.

Wendy smiles a little bit. "That is a nice thought but... No."

Wendy is absolutely infuriating. She's acting so fucking stupid about all her stupid problems. When they don't even matter and I know for a fact that all of her shit is gonna work itself out. I bet when it does she won't even talk to me anymore. Based mostly off of what she said on the roof about me being the last person she could talk to and how she said it. I also think that that's her whole fucking problem in the first place!

"I'm sure it'll work out," I tell her as if I don't know because she's acting as if she doesn't. "Was it a bad fight?"

She takes a moment to think about it and then shakes her head, "No, it was just, like, a guy fight." A guy fight. "Kyle and Eric broke it up the best they could and the administrators showed up pretty quickly. Still, that does something to a friendship; actually putting hands on each other." Yeah, because sleeping with your friends ex doesn't.

"What did they say? Like, before the fight?"

"They were yelling. Stan was calling Kenny a whore and a faggot and a piece of shit and Kenny was telling him to calm down and saying we weren't together anyways so what's the big deal? Then, I don't know, Stan punched him in the face and then Kenny charged Stan and it was... crazy."

"Did you say anything?"

"It was too sudden," she says. Whatever that means. "And I was pretty mad about it. Why were they fighting over me when they were assholes before? It's not really my business anyways if you think about it." I won't though. Turns out I don't care about Wendy's problems again.

"Never know what you have until it's gone…?" I suggest, absent mindedly. I wonder what Craig is doing right now. I wonder if he's skipping class too. I wonder if he's still weird. I wonder if he's wearing his hat. He probably is.

"I guess," she says.

I wonder where he is. I've never thought I'd ever think about a single person so much before in my life. "You really oughtta get inside and warm up Tweek. There's a pile of snow collected on your head."

"I don't want to," I say, flatly.

"What's up with you?" She asks.

Wendy. I turn to her, "Have you seen Craig?" He's in the smart people classes too so maybe they have one together. Craig and I have no classes together.

She blinks at me and then shakes her head. My interest has been lost again. "Come to think of it, he's been gone probably as long as you have. I wonder if he's cold…" I glance at the side of Wendy's stupid head. She did that on purpose. I fucking hate her. "Maybe he's inside though," she says. "I know he hides in the dressing room sometimes." Why would she know that? Fuck. I don't care. I'll ask later.

"Fuck you, Wendy," I work out slowly as I struggle to my feet. They don't seem to be working the way they were when I first came here. "Shit." I grab the wall. "You're a prissy little bitch sometimes, you know that? Of course you do 'cause your also a know-it-all. Maybe," I say to her looking up. "You should stop making everything about you. Think about how other people feel because you said you used to… I think you never did." I don't look for her reaction. I can see she isn't moving or looking up at me though. I dust the snow off my pants and my head. "Fuck you, Wendy. I don't blame 'em."

* * *

 _Short chapter to let you know I appreciate you n for Tweek telln off Wendy- OOOH_

 _Dudes we're 17 chapters in tf. Review ig and make me a playlist and then review again. I'm not writing for a while k? cos im tired so there. But talk to me. Ill respond. If I don't im dead O:_


	18. In the Backseat

**Chapter Track: Bubble Pop Electric by Gwen Stefani (** _ **Oh yeah**_ **)**

"Jesus fucking Christ," I swear under my breath, dragging a cinder block to the wall of the pool house. Pool house? Is that a thing? Fuck, I can google it later. Right now I need to focus. When it's finally in place, I hop onto it and peek into the window. It's dark. And if Craig were in there he wouldn't be able to be that quiet. The pool room's got a crazy echo effect.

Still I call, "Marco!"

Nothing, but my own voice repeating itself a few times before fading out. I smile to myself because I think I'm a comedic genius when in reality I'm about as funny as a deadly disease. And I'm pretty sure, almost ninety percent even that most people (even the ones I don't know) hate me. Even Craig now. I mean he's hiding again. He only does that when he's upset right?

I jump off of the block of cement to check the roof. It's a good spot right? What does Wendy know? Well, maybe she does know a significant amount of information but she doesn't know about Craig, I can tell you that. Not to say that I do because I feel like maybe I don't actually know anything about Craig but, I know more than her!

We're in classes still so I opt to sprint through the empty hallways, just to save time. And sometimes when I feel anxious like I do, running makes me feel better. It's like I'm trying to keep up with my mind. When I get to the heavy metal door and it's shut and locked I sigh heavily. This is gonna be harder than I thought, I realize. Guess Craig really is good at hide and seek like I predicted.

I check the upstairs bathrooms; the ones known for skipping. I check the library, and even the smokers alley again but he isn't any of those places. So, I trudge over to the stupid drama department. The halls are so empty and white. Well, grey, I guess. They're supposed to be white and I can see it in my mind but this school is so old that they've faded.

Then I smell it; smoke. It's not weed, it's cigarette smoke which is even more distinctly Craig. That fucking idiot! I rush over to the dressing room door. I try the knob and it's locked. What the fuck? I knock on the door lightly with the back of my knuckles, "Craig, open the door. It's me." After a few minutes I'm worried he won't do it. Then after another minute I'm worried it's not even him. Right as I'm about to start panicking and leave, the door pops open.

More smoke. What a fucking idiot. I push the door open wide enough to see the niorette lounging on the shaggy black sofa in the small room. He doesn't look up when I enter and shut the door behind me. "Do you have a problem?" I ask the boy. He glances at me from the side of his eyes. "Or have you just lost your fucking mind?" He contaminates the air with more smoke. I snatch the cigarette from his hands and put it out on my jeans.

"What the shit, Tweek?" Craig sits up.

"I get it. This is hard but, if you're gonna do it. Do it outside, on the roof, or hey, maybe the fucking smoker's alley?"

"Don't be a smartass," he stands, reaching for his smoke.

I lift my hand above my head, "I wouldn't have to be if you'd stop acting like a _dumbass_." I figured it'd be a recreated version of that other time I held something above his head. He'd give up but instead he sucker punched me in the gut. I gasp and he tries to grab the cigarette again but I push him back by his forehead. Craig punches me again and I try holding him back by his shoulders without letting him get the smoke. He kicks me in the shin and I pinch his back. He knocks my feet from under me and I take him down with me. We topple to the floor in a bundled heap. Craig takes the opportunity to snatch the cigarette from me. I pull his ear. He punches me again in the same spot. Quite fed up, I grab his wrist, heave him up, and throw him against the couch, followed by pinning him between the couch and my body. He glares up at me. I don't even know what happened to the cigarette.

Craig is panting hard under me. His eyes are piercing and angry. Then the anger dissipates and he just looks like nothing again. "You're buying me more cigarettes," he mumbles.

"Why do you let those things run your life?" I ask him.

He averts his eyes, "I let a lot of things run my life."

I consider this, "You do." Craig doesn't say anything and even though he's quit struggling, I stay keeping him pinned beneath me. "Why're you in here smoking?"

He shrugs, "Class sucked."

"Did someone say something to you?"

"Do you really think I'd still be here if they did?" Nope.

"Nobody's said anything to me either."

"So?"

"Maybe they don't know."

"It's cause McCormick and Marsh got into a fight. People are talking about that now."

"Really," I ask. He nods under me. "You have nice eyes. You should let me draw you." He also has a nice nose that isn't crooked or too big or too flat or too long (somehow), freckles that remind me of constellations, and made such a brilliant decision of getting lip piercings. I want to bite them.

"What," he says. "Naked like Kenny?"

"If you wanna..." I play with his bangs, knocking off his hat. He watches it go to the best of his ability. "You jealous I saw him naked?"

"Who hasn't seen Kenny naked?" Oh, true. "I just fucking hate him."

"Oh, I know. Everyone knows that. He's a nice guy though," I defend.

"Are you trying to say I'm not? Kenny's fucking annoying as shit. He's always bothering me. It's like he's nice to everyone else and a dick to me to make me look like the asshole," Craig says completely monotony.

"I think you're way nicer than Kenny. I also think you look better naked," I tell him. Craig blinks at me but then mumbles a, 'thanks', averting his eyes.

"Why aren't you in class?" Craig asks me.

I blink at him and answer with one word, "Anxiety."

"Did you have a panic attack?"

"Not a bad one," I tell him. "The snow helped."

"How long were you out there?" He asks, taking my somewhat warmed up hand in both of his and twisting it around to see my blue fingers.

"A long time. Sometime in first period, I walked out. I only came back in to find you. Which is like, really hard, Craig."

"Why didn't you just… text me?" Dammit! God _dammit_! "Are you going back?"

I mouth a no while I shake my head at the niorette. Then I narrow my eyes, "Back outside or back to class?"

"Either," he replies.

"Definitely not going back to class and I hadn't planned on going back outside... I didn't really think past finding you."

The bell rings and we both look up. Craig pushes me back a little bit to give himself room to sit up. "Let's go," he says.

"Have you talked to Clyde and Token? Did they see the fight- did you?" I sit up to let him move.

"I talked to Kenny this morning," Craig says. He props up on his elbow. "I got Toke's car keys. Let's go."

"You talked to Kenny? Jesus Christ, what happen?- Why do you have Toke's keys? What?"

"Because I'm good at pick pocketing and I knew I'd want to leave early today." Another bit of Craig trivia I now know that no one else probably does.

"He doesn't know you have them?" Craig shakes his head. "Well, where would we even go?"

"You're acting like you don't want to-"

"I do!" Craig raises an eyebrow at me. "I mean, I don't want to be here just as much as you, man..."

"Cool," he says. "I talked to Kenny this morning about this," Craig pulls a small baggy out of his coat pocket. I mouth an 'oh' at his drugs. Just weed, nothing crazy. "Let's go do this," he says, shoving the bag in my face.

How did I not smell that on him? I nod, "Okay, I'm down."

Craig smiles lightly and says, "Good, let's go." Craig grabs his things and looks to me to which I just shrug because my stuff wasn't important anyways. Which is probably why I didn't bring it in the first place. I follow Craig out to Token's wealthy looking car.

Craig clicks a button the remote and the car unlocks and the trunk pops open. He throws his bag in and gets in the driver's seat. He tosses me the gear and orders, "You start."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Starks," he shrugs. I nod slowly, glancing down to the rolling paper and baggy of weed. No grinder, I note. Craig pulls out of the parking lot.

I start by pulling a textbook off the floor as a makeshift table and start to crush the weed with my fingers to the best of my abilities. I do a pretty good job and spread the bud along the paper in a line. I see Craig glance at me, "Do you know how to roll?" I only laugh at his question. I fold the paper underneath the weed easily and then roll the rest up. I leave a little bit of paper out and drag my rogue across it lightly. Then I fold it over to adhere to the other side of the paper. A perfect joint via Tweek.

"Wow," Craig says. "You're better than Toke..."

I haven't hung out with these three weirdos long enough to know how high of a praise that was but any compliment from Craig is significant, I think. I reach into my back pocket for my lighter and light the end of the joint inhaling, carefully. Craig pulls into Starks skillfully and parks the car, shutting the car off. He takes the joint from my hand, without even asking and takes a huge hit. He breaks into a coughing fit.

"I'm gonna get you a vape for Christmas. Your lungs can repair themselves, you know..."

"I already told you I'll quit eventually, just not right now."

"That's exactly what people with addictions say," I tell him. "They never actually do."

"Well, if I said I'd do it then I'm gonna do it."

"I have faith in you." Maybe I say this because of Craig's previous comment of me not having faith in him. He just nods and takes another hit. He makes sure not to cough once this time. I think Craig smokes a lot more because he's stressed. I just wish it wasn't because of me. Wendy blames herself but honestly she shouldn't even have known. Craig can trust Clyde and Token because he's known them his whole life. I only just recently started talking to Wendy. And so I take responsibility quietly. He hands the joint back and I stare at it. I want to be high and then I want to make out with Craig, even though a bunch of stupid shit is happening...

So I take two more hits. Twenty minutes later, blunts gone and I'm leaning against the window in the backseat with Craig latched onto my neck, creating probably the biggest hicky I've ever received in my life. "Remember," I say. "You're not a leech. It's not only the sucking that makes your partner feel good... Mm," Craig scraps his teeth over my flesh gently. "Yeah, it's teeth and tongue too..." I struggle to get out coherently. Goosebumps prickle up and down my arms and spine. My heart pounds in my ribs like an earthquake because it feels like it's shaking my whole body. "And depending on who you're giving the hicky to, biting might-" I moan loudly when his teeth clamp down on my skin roughly. "Hah," I breathe out loudly. "Jesus," I chuckle. Craig had asked me to teach him how to give a good hicky. I'm trying to be general because a good hicky as well as anything intimate in a relationship is really based on your partner. It's all personal and everyone's different but Jesus, I can't help but be a little biased since he's practicing on me. I don't care that he's gonna leave a huge mark, I just thought maybe he should care or would, considering. Clearly, though, he doesn't. Which makes me wonder why.

Craig's lips dance sensually slow across my skin, right under my jaw, over my jaw, and back. "Now, what?" He breathes on my ear.

"Ear- earlobe..." I mutter. This one is specific to me, I openly admit but I'm starting to get off on this so I don't care. Plus, Craig's with _me_ right now anyways. He should know what I like. Just like I know he likes to do the nasty in the shower and his ears are really sensitive.

Craig's lips wrap around my ear and he starts to nibble. A shiver goes down my spine and my whole body temperature rises. Craig decides that this would be the perfect time to throw his knee over mine to straddle my leg.

Are my parents gonna be mad if I come home late today? "What time is it?"

"Who cares," answers Craig between kisses. He pulls at my ear with his teeth and my chest starts to rise and fall in shorter quicker breaths. Craig, what are you doing?

He slides a hand through my hair, tangling his digits in my locks.

"I'm gonna start getting hard if you keep this up," I inform him. Instead of answering Craig starts to attack my cheek aggressively. "Oh-kay," I say. He takes my lips with his, turn my face towards him. He rests his weight on my leg and I grab his hand, lacing our fingers together and knock his hat off with the other.

Craig chuckles and my dick twitches. "Feel better?" He asks, referring to me removing his head gear. I nod. This is weird because usually I'm the one making Craig feel good but Craig asked me to teach him how to give a proper hicky. He needed a practice dummy and I was more than willing.

We sit for a moment. Craig watches me as I play with his dark hair. "What are you?" I ask. "That you have such dark hair with such blue eyes?"

Craig shrugs, "I don't think I'm my parent's kid."

I blink at him, "Seriously? Just because you have dark hair or-"

"I think they treat me differently than Ruby. In a weird way... Ruby says I'm definitely adopted or something but I was here before she was born so I don't fucking care what she says. My mom says I'm definitely not but there aren't many pictures that actually prove anything and I look nothing like my dad. He's like Irish. Do I look Irish?"

I consider this, "You look like, Italian or German maybe..."

"That'd be awesome if I actually turned out to not be theirs. Then their blood wouldn't be in my genes and we'd have no real ties."

"They still raised you."

"And what a great fucking job they did," he says. "Let's stop talking about my parents. Forever." Yeah, especially while I have this boner.

"As you wish, princess."

"And stop fucking calling me princess," Craig demands, in a very princessy manner I might add before kissing me again. He kisses aggressively but quite skillfully, for Craig. He keeps it neat and takes a few open mouths kiss before unfolding his tongue on top of mine. Heavy sigh. Craig drives me crazy. With my hands still in his hair I tug his face into mine. His knee brushes the front of my jeans and I squirm. He does it again on purpose this time, grinding his knee against the bulge in my pants. I buck my hips into the motion causing more friction. Craig's hand goes to undo my jeans while his mouth attaches to the other side of my neck, leaving more obvious bruises but his techniques gotten so good. I grab the front of jeans, starting at getting them undone as well but am interrupted when his hand dips into my undone jeans and grips my hard-on through my boxers. Craig's mouth moves to my shoulder, while his hand starts to stroke me slowly with the lightest touch. "Craig," I breathe. His teeth sink into my shoulder gently. Is he riling me up on purpose? Doesn't he know what he's getting himself into? Craig's never been this... aggressive. He usually just lays there... like a potato. He must be pent up or something. But then, wouldn't he be wanted me on him? Maybe he's found out he gets more turned on, on top. Or he's experimenting or something.

Craig's thumb runs circles around the head of my dick. I moan loudly. "Don't zone out like my hand's not on your dick, asshole."

"What is with you? You're acting weird."

"Sit up so I can pull your jeans lower."

"See? You never undress me. What're we even doing? Did you lure me out here with ulterior motives, Tucker?"

"Ugh, don't use my last name. And actually yes. One's you'll like."

I grab his wrist from my jeans, stopping his motions and narrow my eyes at him. "What?"

Craig looks at me with red cheeks. He's clearly trying really hard at acting like he doesn't care which peaks my interest. He's doing a good job but, he's always acting like he doesn't care about stuff, whether he actually does or not so I'd assume it's not hard to pretend for him. He glances at the snow outside. "I've been thinking," he says.

I gasp, "You've been _thinking_?"

"Don't be an ass." He smacks the side of my head. "Anyways, we've been doing this stuff for a while…" Craig looks frustrated. He's probably still mad about my thinking joke but that was really funny. Okay, no, it probably wasn't. "You know…" he says.

My brows furrow. I know? I know what? "Doing this stuff a while". Does he mean a relationship? So? "I don't get it," I tell him.

Craig rolls his eyes. He gets up. "Wait, let me try again!" I cry. Am I gonna have to take care of this boner alone now? What the hell?! Craig rummages around the front seat before returning, dropping something in my lap. I glance down at the thin square package. My eyes widen and I look to the niorette for confirmation. Instead he's looking away with an angry pout. Probably because he's embarrassed or something Craig like that. "Are you sure?" I ask him. "A car isn't really an ideal place to lose your virginity, don't you think?" Not to mention it's not even our car. Poor Toke. I'll make sure to apologize to the lad later.

Craig's face is lit up like fucking Christmas lights. He looks at me, "It doesn't matter. We're alone, aren't we? When does that ever happen?"

"I don't want you to feel like we rushed things," I say.

"Then do it slowly," he whispers, holding my neck so I have nowhere to look except his beautiful orbs.

Now _my_ cheeks turn red. Oh, God. I really want this. I pick up the condom in my lap. "We don't have lube," I notice.

"Lube..." Craig mumbles. He probably didn't even think about it. He probably didn't even know. I could laugh at how unknowing about this stuff he's turned out to be. Especially with his cool demeanor.

"Assuming you don't want me to use spit-"

"Shut up," Craig groans. "Can we use lotion?" Craig asks with more piercing stares. I nod slowly. He reaches back in the front seat. I notice how his loose jeans ride down as he leans over the center console. I swallow hard. This is actually happening. It's not like my wet dreams. Craig tosses me a travel sized bottle of cocoa butter. Token's gonna be pissed! I snicker. "What's funny?" Craig asks.

"Nothing. I'm just really happy right now."

Craig makes that same angry pouty face again and I can't help thinking how cute he is just in general. And about how high we are. And how I don't even care about any of the circumstances right now. Like the car, the "lube", or any of the drama shit back home.

I pocket the condom and lean over Craig. He looks up at me with a seemingly permanently red face, yet even sharper piercing eyes. I smirk. He looks determined. And scared. I hum, thoughtfully and grab his face, squeezing his cheeks. "Relax. Don't think about it too much." I think Craig threw the condom at me because he wants me to... for lack of better term, top. To make sure though I throw in, "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt." And kiss his puckered lips.

"Don't be a fag, Tweek." He mumbles.

I snort, "God forbid."

Craig groans, swatting my hands away. "Just shut up." He takes the back of my neck and brings me in for a hard kiss. I lean over Craig moving him back against the seat cushions, without losing the contact of his lips. His tongues back into my mouth and his hands go straight to my crotch, palming the front of my jeans, urging noises from me. And since we are, as Craig pointed out, alone. I'm as loud as I wanna be.

I work my hands inside Craig's jeans and slowly lower them. He loops his arms around my neck and throws his leg around my waist, bring our pelvises together. "Sweet Jesus," I mutter into Craig's shoulder while he kisses my shoulder. He does it again, grinding out groins together even slower this time. My jeans are already to my thighs so his jeans rub against my erection roughly. I almost buckle. I nip at Craig's lip piercings and slip my hand into his boxers, realizing this would be much easier in our previous position but also wanting Craig to be as comfortable as possible and I don't think that would be having him cowgirl style our first time. I do laugh at the thought though. Would it be cowboy style... since we're both dudes? Oh look, another funny thought of mine.

"Stop laughing," Craig says.

"Clearly, you're not as high as I am." Or maybe Craig's nervous about what I'm about to do to his ass.

I'm a riot.

I can't not giggle right now. It's so unfortunate.

Craig's dark brows knit together. I'd brush his cheek with my thumb but one of my hands is holding me up and the others in his jeans.

Craig pouts. I think I'm upsetting him. No! Get it together, Tweek. "Okay, I'm sorry," I say. "Are you nervous?" Craig just continues to glare at me. I sigh. "You know communication would make this tons easier. Just saying."

"Fucking duh, I'm nervous, fucktard."

Jesus. "Well, we don't have to do this, Craig. We can wait. I'm fine with that if you're not ready."

"I keep telling you that I fucking am! I thought about this a long time, Tweek. I'm gonna be nervous if we do this now, next month, a year from now-"

"A year?" I raise my eyebrows. "You have such high expectations for this relationship, Craig. I'm flattered."

"Jesus Christ, Tweek. You know what I meant."

"Well, I can tell you now that it's gonna hurt like a bitch. And if you're tense, even more so," I tell Craig, watching his apprehensive blue beauty's avoid my eye contact. "But you shouldn't be worried at all because I'm gonna make you feel really fucking good. So, just focus on that." Oh shit, they finally came back! His eyes, I mean. They're looking at me now. I think he's trying to see if I'm lying or not. I'm not so I'm confident enough to hold his gaze. "You good?"

"Only if you stop randomly laughing."

I chuckle and kiss his ear, "Sure." I decide it'd be easier to try and keep as much clothes on as possible because it's cold and we're in a car. But I remove Craig's pants completely to avoid difficulty. I don't know if Craig wants me to be gentle or rough. I'm sure we'll have enough time to experiment later. Kissing Craig as slow and tender as I probably ever have, I place my hand on his knee and spread his legs apart. My hand slides down his knee over his thigh with a very sensual touch to my fingertips. My hand slips around his back and down, cupping his ass cheek, firmly. Craig shifts under me. I use my arm to brush his shirt up a little so his stomach shows too.

"Let me know if it hurts too much or you're uncomfortable," I tell him, reaching back for the lotion. Then I add, "Oh, and tell me when it feels really good too so I can learn your body." That's my ultimate goal really.

I pour the lotion on my fingers and rub it around before deciding I should add a little more just in case. I press my finger against Craig's entrance. Jesus Christ, my heart is like a bullet train with how fast it's beating. Craig's eyes are closed, his cheeks are red, and his lips are slightly parted, wet, and bruised where I bit him. I swallow, pushing my finger in deeper and watch his face contort to the unfamiliar sensation. My eyes narrow as I watch him with focus. I curve my finger slightly and move my finger in deeper. Still nothing. I retract my finger and add a second one. I push in a little quicker this time, straight and forward.

Craig suddenly jumps, arching his back. He gasps and struggles to push me back by my shoulders. "What the fuck," he says. "What the fuck was that?"

"Did it feel good?" I ask with a smirk. He looks at me. "Probably your prostate, Craig. Don't you watch porn?" Or been to a biology class? Jeez. He just continues to stare so I roll my eyes. "Did it feel good?" I repeat.

He thinks. "I don't know."

"Want me to try it again?"

He looks away, "Yes…"

Craig lies back down again and once again my fingers invade him. This time I go slower, knowing where to go. When the tip of my finger brushes his spot again Craig jumps again but less this time. I brush it again and Craig makes a noise, arching his back. I won't do this too long; I just enjoy playing with him. I'm supposed to be stretching him but, I got carried away.

"Oh, wow. You're dripping with pre-come. Is it that good?" I ask the dark haired boy, dragging my finger (that isn't in him) up the tip of his member. Craig doesn't answer just like I thought he wouldn't. I guess the answers obvious anyways.

I start to stretch Craig with my two fingers. He shifts, uncomfortably. I know, babe, I know. But it gets worse. I pet his hair, adding a third finger. "What the shit," he mumbles. "How fucking many are you gonna put in?"

"You're gonna wish I had put in more…" I tell him.

"What's that mean?" He asks, opening his eyes for the first time in a while. It should be awkward… maybe… like, 'oh, hey, my fingers are inside you' but it's not but I'm also pretty weird and so is Craig.

"That you're still very virgin so it's gonna be…" I hum in thought, "tight."

"If it's gonna hurt anyways," says Craig. "Then just do it."

"Oh, really?" He nods. "Alright…" I guess three fingers is really enough anyways. I wasn't gonna fist him, unless he wanted me to, of course. I retrieve my fingers from inside of Craig. I love saying that. _Inside of Craig_. I grab the condom, tear it open, and roll it on. Then, I grab the lotion again and spread it all over myself. I think I've been humming a tune. I'm so happy.

I already know this is gonna hurt like hell so I start to jack Craig a little bit to compensate or something. If he doesn't like it, he can just focus on that. But, man, this view of Craig makes me wish I had eight hands. I want to be all over him with my hands in his hair and on his neck, running down his back and stomach, and thighs. "Just do it," Craig says. "All at once."

"Are you sure?" Craig nods again. "Alright," I say.

I position myself right at his entrance, take a deep breath, say a quick prayer, and plow all the way into Craig. He cries out so loudly that it gives my brain tingles because it sounds so beautiful. That's the loudest I think I've ever heard Craig be. In general, not just sex. I tried to aim for his good spot on my first try but either the pain was too overbearing or I missed. I moan as Craig's muscles tense around me. "Tell me when to move."

Craig breathes heavily with tears at the corners of his closed eyes. "Are you okay?"

"How did you do that?" he breathes.

"What part?"

"You keep hitting that spot…" he pants. "If you hit it again I think I'm gonna come," Craig admits. Oh, my God. Cute; so cute.

"Would that be a bad thing or something?" I wonder out loud, slowing stroking his throbbing member.

"Fuck you," he mumbles. If Craig comes, that means I'm doing my job right. Plus, I had already assumed Craig wouldn't last long this time on the presumption that he had never discovered his prostate and that I would find it fairly quickly. Craig's too cute.

I press my lips against Craig's again as pull out of him slightly. I start slow so he can adjust. I keep my hand moving on him too, nipping mindlessly at his neck while I push into him. I try to find a rhythm that pleases me and doesn't hurt him. But, I find that he's fine on account of his leg wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper in him.

I slowly begin to move faster and plunge into Craig harder. His nails dig into my back. My favorite part (besides the obvious) is watching his usually apathetic face lit up with one new expression after the other. His brows twist with pain, then pleasure. Beads of sweat dribble down his cheek from his forehead. His eyes open and he looks at me. I've never seen Craig look like this. What is this stupid feeling in my chest? He slides one of his hands from my back to my neck and pulls my face into his, kissing me.

Seriously, what the fuck is this and why is Craig acting so weird…?

His stupid sexy wolf eyes. I think I hit the spot again because Craig's head goes flying back, breaking out kiss and he moans. His body tenses as he comes. I thrust into him a few more times before coming really hard. I grunt and drop my head into the crook of Craig neck and shoulder until my body stops shaking. Then, I drop all my weight on top of him. Jesus fucking Christ.

For ten minutes the car's just full of heavy breathing. I can't format coherent thoughts. I just know that, fuck, I feel really good. And I have this weird feeling in my chest still. I think I'm dying and what's funny about that is I don't even care because I finished everything on my bucket list.

That's an even funnier joke because I don't have a bucket list. Those things are gay as fuck.

That's funny too because, plot twist, I'm gay. Ha ha.

When the breathing's over, it's ten minutes of silence. I figure Craig's sleeping like he usually does, especially because I was falling asleep myself until he says, "I finally get it."

"Mmm."

"When all those people said I needed to get laid…" he answers. "I didn't get it before because I hated people and the thought of touching someone and being that close grossed me out but, I get it now."

My brain's like a neuron pudding right now. It's lovely. "Are you sleeping?" Craig asks me.

I snort. That's the funniest one yet. "I think I was."

"Can you…" he pauses. "Get out of me… If you're gonna sleep."

This makes me die. I think I laugh for five straight minutes. "It's not that funny, Tweek."

"Let me bring the weed next time. Then, it will be to you."

"Mm, maybe."

I pull out of Craig and discard the condom. Craig sits up and cleans himself off with his sock. I feel bad and offer him mine but he denies it because due to my busted shoes (you remember, the ones with the holes) my socks are pretty ragged. Craig pulls his jeans back on while I continue to nap and then he gets out of the car. Probably to smoke a cigarette.

 **0-0-0-0**

 _ **I think this is the longest chapter of anything I've ever written for anything. Also this is the longest story I've ever written. With a whopping 70,000+ words! Ladies and gentlemen, we are breaking records. Also, finally right? Anyway review and lmk what you think.**_

 _ **Ps sorry for the wait DX but hey I'm not dead!**_


	19. Vibes and Cigarettes After Sex

**Chapter Track: Learn to Trust by Bad Suns**

Craig's eyes were heavy and filled to the brim with tears. They talked to me the way they always do, except this time was probably the easiest to hear what they wanted. They were full of lust, but there was something else there. His eyebrows furrowed together and slanted, his breathing erratic, and his hair a mess of black tussles. His lips were abused and slick with a coat of saliva. Since his eyelashes are dark, it emphasized how long they are. Craig's beautiful. I don't even have to paint him, he's already art. Craig's face contorts and I can tell he's reaching his climax by how he arches into my palm and his eyebrows twist with pleasure. He squinted up at me, irises so light I can barely see them. He finally tenses up, his eyes squeeze shut tightly. He lets out a moan followed by his whole body dropping back into the seat cushions and a content sigh.

It's odd to think about a time before I knew Craig. Really knew him. I used to think he was probably really boring but I should've known he'd be the only person in South Park weirder than me. He played the part so well, if I think about it. The person I presumed him to be is completely opposite of what he turned out to be. The expressionless potato actually has a lot of colors; maybe a full rainbow if I'm being generous. A lot of expressions too.

Craig's tear filled eyes flash in my mind one more time before I wake up. He's like some kind of Greek god.

Jesus fucking Christ, my neck hurts. That's what I get for sleeping in a car with nothing but Craig's hat as my pillow. I find my phone and check it for messages. Because technically, I'm still on punishment so technically, I'm grounded. So, I guess I'm technically, sneaking out. I doubt my parents give an actual shit though as long as I'm not getting in trouble. I have to piss.

I have a message but it isn't from my parents. Kenny texted me a, _hey_. I figure he wants to talk about Wendy or the fight with Stan, but probably both. Why he wants to talk to me specifically is beyond me. But I also don't know who else he'd talk to either.

I grimace at myself. I'm a mess. I'm all sticky now. I find a recently opened pack of tissues on the seat next to me. Craig probably used them for himself earlier. I assume because there's a bunch of discarded crumpled tissues littering the floor. I use the tissues to clean myself up. No more car sex, I conclude. Hm, unless Craig really wants to.

Speaking of which, where is the twerp? I sip my jeans up while I looks around outside. It's almost like the universe laid a huge plush white blanket over everything. It's really beautiful. It's serene which only fuels my lax attitude. It's probably front eh post sex. Actually I know it is. That was Craig's first time. He was really, really tight. I orgasmed harder than I think I ever had.

I don't see the boy outside anywhere. Which, I'm not gonna lie, really freaks me out. If he isn't outside and he's not in the car, where could he be? What if I lost him? Clyde's gonna kill me. He told me to watch Craig, didn't he? God, I had one job. Fuck.

I have to piss. I throw my Chuck's on and toss Craig's hat over my hair before flinging the door open. Wind floods the car and slaps me in the face brutally. I'm supposed to pull my dick out in this shit? Craig can't be out here because that'd mean he's been out here since I fell asleep and I'm pretty sure I've been sleeping for almost an hour.

I step into the snow. It engulfs the entirety of my foot and shoe. I groan and pull myself to my feet using the side of the car. I think I came so hard that I pulled something. Can you even do that? I stretch. I look around one last time. Great, now I have to find Craig again. Maybe he's pissing too. But why would he go so far away for something like that?

For me, I just step a few feet away from the car, kick the snow over until a little hole has formed and then I piss in the hole, kicking the snow back in place when I'm finished. Maybe he has paruresis. Or, maybe the gay sex thing was too much for him and he skipped town. Unlikely since he doesn't have a car or any means of transportation. But what really debunks this theory is the boys hat that resides on my head. There's no way he'd leave without it. I shake myself before tucking the little guy back in my jeans. He's had a busy day, he deserves some rest.

When I turn around I scream. "Yo," Craig says, unconcerned. He's sitting on top of the car, smoking a cigarette; of fucking course.

"What the fuck, Craig?" I exclaim. "You saw me looking for you, didn't say anything, watched me take a piss- Why are you- What the fuck, dude. You scared the shit out of me."

He shrugs, lazily. "I thought you saw me."

"Well, I definitely didn't," I assure him. Craig exhales smoke. My eyebrow twitches. He looks kinda... beautiful. He hasn't put his hat back on so his hair is crazy obvious sex hair, his clothes are wrinkled, his skin is kinda pale from the cold except his nose and cheeks which are slightly red. He glances at me. My heart skips. I can't do this. I can't do this. What the fuck is this? "How'd you sleep?"

My head explodes. Craig is pretending to care about me now?! Why is he doing that? Why does he look like that? "Don't do that?" I tell him childishly.

"Do what?" he asks monotonously.

"Ask me questions concerning my wellbeing. It's creepy." Craig stares at me with pale blue eyes. "That's pretty creepy too," I add. He flicks me off. That's much better. My insides settle steadily.

I grab the car and heave myself on top of it with Craig. I make myself comfortable. "How's it going?" I shoot the niorette a side glance.

"You have a huge hicky."

"I figured as much. You did a good job," I tell him with a thumbs up.

"No, Tweek, like, massive," he says. He reaches over to touch my neck. My breath halts. He touches right under my chin. "Here," he says, dragging his finger down my neck and to my collar bone. "To here." His finger drifts over my shoulder. "To here."

I watch Craig's eyes travel my skin. He's too busy examining my bruise to realize I'm staring at him which is pretty okay because I'm staring hard and my face might scare him. His hand drops and I force my eyes close. "What are you doing?" At least he didn't see my face before.

"Being weird. As per usual." I peak out of one eye. Safe. He's moved back. Craig just blinks at me before returning his attention to his cigarette.

Craig's back to being a potato with his expressions limited to one; boring. How can he be so indifferent? He just lost his virginity. We just had sex for the first time ever. Doesn't he feel anything? I expected him to be either glowing or somewhat down because of the whole parents/ religion thing. Now that I think about it, he had a fucking panic attack just last night about us getting out. How does someone go from that to 'let's have sex'. Sometimes I just don't get this kid! Okay, I will say there is something different about Craig but not significantly. It's like he just doesn't care but maybe he does and this is just how he expresses himself. He's never terribly emotional. Except when he's mad, but that goes without saying. He asked me how I slept and that was kind of sappy and gross. Maybe he's acting like he doesn't care because when he did, I kinda brushed him off. That makes me feel like a dick.

"I'm a little surprised that you wanted to do this now... with everything that's going on," I start, cautiously.

Craig takes a drag from his cigarette. "Something's always going on," he points out.

I consider this. "Yeah, but it kinda hit the fan today, don't you think?" He only scoffs. He's right. Today is nothing in comparison to what is to come. I don't even want to think about it. "Still, it's a little weird."

"I've been thinking about this a while," he says.

"I just thought after last night," I say. "You'd want more time alone or something."

"Last night was stupid," Craig says, simply. "Why are you talking about it?" he asks, suddenly turning towards me.

I blink at him, "It's- I- It's nothing, it's just-"

"What?"

"I- I heard you and Clyde last night."

Craig pauses for a moment. He turns to me. I expect some sort of expression; angry or nervous, something but there's none to be found. He says, "Why did you pretend to be sleeping?"

"It didn't seem like you wanted me to be awake."

"That's stupid," he says.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it is," he repeats. "Because that means you should have been there, not Clyde. Clyde's a nice friend and all but, you understand this more than he does and I'd rather have you comforting me than Clyde. So, it's pretty fucking stupid that you did that."

I scoff, "I woke up when Clyde was already out there."

"So?" Craig says. I narrow my eyes at him. "Hey, I'm not gonna argue. We both know that was stupid but, I'm willing to forgive you anyways," he informs me, _oh so_ generously.

"Either way, it's weird that after you seemed so mad yesterday, you want to do this _now_ ," I tell him. "Plus," I say. "You don't seem…" I shrug, "I don't know. You're acting so nonchalant about it."

"Are you just worried if I liked it?"

"I don't know. I'm worried we rushed it."

"We didn't rush it."

"It might have something to do with taking your virginity. I feel like shit."

"Oh, my God," Craig says.

"Did it hurt? It must've. I know it did."

"Wait," Craig pauses. "You've never been… you know." I shake my head at him and shrug, not understanding what he's implying. Craig sighs, frustrated. "A bottom?"

I shake my head frantically, "Dude, that'd fucking _hurt_! I'm not saying I'm exclusive to being a top and I'd never do it… I just haven't found the right guy. I guess." Craig says nothing so I continue. "But since I'm always a top, I'd say I'm pretty skilled at it but, I don't know. I can't fuck myself. What do you think, Craig?" He'd know. He could tell me and this won't even be weird. Because Craig started this fucking conversation. When I turn to him, he just looks really confused. "Was it too much? Are you okay? I wanted to ask before but I thought that'd just make you mad or something."

"You've never..." he trails off. "What the fuck."

"What?" I say. "Is that a bad thing?" Craig doesn't say anything. I smirk, "You're thinking, ' _that's not fair_ ' or something like that, aren't you?" I lean into him.

"Shut up," he mumbles, pushing my face away.

"Does it hurt?" I ask again with a little bit more professionalism.

Craig groans, "Yeah, Tweek, it does."

"Is it bad?" I gap. "You can't be very comfortable but Kenny says that if the sex was really good then that's a good feeling. He says it's like a reminder of the awesome sex you just had… but if the sex was bad-"

"Tweek. It was _great_ , okay?" Craig snaps. Heat prickles the skin across my face. "Why are you acting all embarrassed now? That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"

"So you only said it 'cause you think it's what I want to hear?"

Craig rolls his eyes at me, "Tweek, please, your anxiety is showing." I glare at Craig. He grabs the hat on my head by each earflap, pulling my face down until his lips are on mine. "I said it because I meant it, asshole." Craig kisses me. My stomach fumbles. Jesus, why does it feel like I'm gonna throw up? I'm a generally shaky person but it's like I'm buzzing over here. My heart's beating so hard, I feel like I might pass out. Craig ends the kiss, leaning back into his position. My eyes stay on him for a while. He's got snow settled all over his head. He has to be cold.

"Are Clyde and Token still at school?"

"Red gave them a ride." That bitch.

Speaking of bitches... "I told Wendy off today. I just got really mad all of a sudden. It was like I was pretending to be okay with everything but then realized I wasn't." Craig looks at me, leaning back on his hands, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "I told her she was a prissy bitch, know-it-all and she should stop thinking about herself all the time. It was far more vulgar though, if I can remember correctly."

"Mm," Craig says. "That sucks."

I make a face at him. "Why do you think it sucks?"

"You two were friends... Or something. Right?" he asks.

"I don't have friends, Craig," I remind him. And even if Wendy were my friend, wouldn't Craig be happy because he doesn't like her anyways? –Or so he claimed to.

"Clyde and Token are your friends," he says.

"Clyde and Token are _your_ friends," I correct him. He gives me a long stare. "You're doing the creepy thing again."

"I didn't know you felt like that," Craig says.

My brows furrow, "Like what?"

"Like we weren't your friends," he says, looking over Stark's.

"It's not like I hate them. We get along and they're nice, it's just I don't consider them my friends. Aren't friends like super close? You guys are super close. I just met them though so we're like close acquaintances."

Craig hums like he understands. I didn't realize he wanted me to be friends with Token and Clyde like that. I don't think it's a big deal at all to either of us but Craig actually said something so that means he cares. It's quiet enough for me now to hear the music Craig has playing softly from his phone. We both sit quietly and listen to his beachy-indie music mix with the loud whipping wind. It's intolerable out here. "Why are you sitting on the car?" Atta boy, Tweek, asking the real questions.

"I was smoking."

"The whole time?" I ask. He nods with a shrug. "How was it?" I suddenly jump at him, excitedly. "-Smoking a cigarette after sex? Was it like an instinct? Was it like in the movies?" I ask him.

Craig blinks at the cigarette in his hand, "I don't know." I frown. "It was normal, I guess. I was already pretty relaxed. I didn't feel like I needed one but you looked like you wanted to sleep so I didn't want to disturb you." Once again Craig proves to be too much my weak coffee addicted heart. Why is he being so weird? Is he acting like this because we had sex and he feels like we're on some other level now? Aren't we? But, I've fucked people before. But, this is Craig's first time… with anyone. Maybe, he's just asking normal questions and I'm reading into it because of this stupid feeling I keep getting in my gut

"How… thoughtful," I look ahead of the car at the plush snow. Somehow Craig and I always end up in situations where nothing else matters except the moment, which is a crazy concept to someone like me who can only dwell on the past or anticipate the future. We aren't even doing anything either.

"We should head back soon."

I hum in agreement, returning my attention to my long forgotten text from Kenny. I send him back a, ' _hey_ ' before hopping off the car with Craig. We get in Token's car and Kenny responds: _we should talk_. I respond agreeing that indeed, we should and that I was headed over to the Black's residents and to with that information what he will. Kenny responds with a, ' _chill_ '. I let Craig know we're expecting guests. "Tweek, would it literally kill you to _not_ be a prick?"

"Kenny's had a troublesome day," I say. "He needs to vent. I deal with Clyde so you can deal with Kenny." Craig glares at the road, angrily. "He won't bother you. I won't let him. I promise."

"Yeah," Craig says. "But, you know how he is."

"He won't be able to tell we had sex just by looking at us," I assure Craig.

"Don't fucking lie."

"Sorry. Hopeful thinking."

When we finally pull up to Token's mansion Craig announces that while he's not really high anymore, he's too high to climb a tree. So, we stand at the front door, ring the doorbell, and wait for someone to answer. Clyde comes stomping down the stairs eventually. He opens the door with hazy red eyes. I scoff, "Burnout."

Clyde says, "There's a time to be high and a time to learn." Clyde doesn't even do well in school. I do better than he does and I don't even try.

"Whatever, Donovan, get out of my way."

"Whoa," Clyde says when I push past him. He grabs my shoulder, spinning me back towards him. "Holy shit." Clyde grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls it down. "What the fuck, Craig? Are you a vampire? Shit."

"It was practice," I defend, shoving the brunette's hand away.

"Aw," Clyde coos. "That's adorable. You two are too cute. I'm glad you had a nice afternoon together." The heat from inside blasts my face and I sigh, contently. Clyde rubs his eyes and yawns. "You know," he starts. "I didn't appreciate being stranded at school for an hour, freaking out with Toke because we think someone hacked his car and you weren't answering your phone."

"Typically."

"Does that help, Craig? No, it doesn't," Clyde says. "Token would have gladly handed you his car keys, you weirdo. You didn't have to go ninja on us. Plus, who the hell just takes off with someone's car?"

Craig raises his hand. "I thought I sent a text."

We start up the stairs. "Where were you two anyways?" Neither Craig nor I respond to this question. Which, I suppose in hindsight was the wrong answer. Clyde slowly turns around to look at us. He glances between me and Craig. His blood shot eyes narrow and he hums a suspicious, "Hm." I give him my best poker face because that's what Craig is doing. Which, also, in hindsight... probably was the wrong protocol. But, Clyde luckily just continues.

In Token's room, the lights are off and a movie is playing. Token is sitting in front of the TV in a Bing bag chair. He glances over at us and gives Craig the middle finger. "Jesus Christ, my bad," Craig says. "But, honestly, you should have known it was me from the jump."

"Yeah, but you weren't answering your phone so we started to panic," Token says. Craig rolls his eyes. "That wasn't cool, man. We thought something happened to you. Clyde almost called the poli-"

" _I almost called the police_!" Clyde cuts in.

Craig flops onto Token's bed. "Don't you think that's a little bit dramatic?"

"Is it?" Clyde asks. "I don't think it is," Clyde answers himself which proves to be enough because no one else says anything.

Until Token exclaims, "What the hell happened to your neck, dude?" I quickly cover my neck with both of my hands. "Shit. It looks like you got mauled by a bear or some shit." Token then glances to Craig who pulls his hat all the way over his face. "You two didn't do anything in my car, did you?" When Craig remains in hiding, Toke turns his attention back to me. I immediately panic. I attempt to crawl behind Craig. He grumbles and Clyde grabs my ankle, snickering like a hyena.

"No!" I scream, grabbing Craig's shirt when Clyde tries to pull me away from the niorette. Token gets up too, to pull at Craig's hat.

"We didn't do anything," Craig attempts to lie but even he can't hold the facade.

"Except leave that huge bruise on Tweek's neck?"

"He fell."

I nod, frantically. I start kicking so Clyde will let go. "Bullshit," Clyde calls, dodging my attack and snatching at my feet until he has a firm grasp on my ankle again.

Token and Craig are currently in a game of tug of war for the smaller boys hat. Craig grunts and everyone pauses because it was a pain-filled grunt, as little as it was and Token's hardly rough housing with the boy. Token's brows furrow and he stops, "You okay, man? Did I hurt you?" No, that's probably not why.

"No," Craig mumbles.

Clyde suddenly gasps and Craig's body drops limp. Clyde lets go of my limb. "No fucking way."

"Fuck off, Clyde," I grumble, rubbing at my ankle. "Asshole."

"No," Clyde says. "You're the fucking asshole here!"

"What're you talking about?"

"You two did it, didn't you?"

"IN MY CAR?"

I flinch at Token's outburst. "I figured you two did something but-"

"What the fuck! Why did it have to be in my car?!"

"I thought you were asexual or nonsexual or whatever," Clyde says.

"You could've literally done it anywhere," Token says.

"What about keeping your virginity? You said you wanted to do that! I remember you telling me that," Clyde rambles.

"At school, at Tweek's house- hell, could've done it here. I wouldn't even have cared," Token rants. "But my car? My beautiful Serenity."

"You call her Serenity? I always thought she looked like a Anastasia or Tigra," Clyde says.

"Nope, she's serenity because she's my baby and I love her and she makes me feel at peace," Toke says. "If she were black, then maybe something a little more eccentric but, Clyde that's not the point."

"Mind your fucking business, Clyde," Craig growls.

"What happen to that whole trying to be a gay Christian thing?" Clyde says. "Were you even listening to my bees and the bees speech?"

"We used a condom," I interject.

Craig informs me that I'm not helping. I frown. "I don't know, Clyde."

"About safe sex?"

" _No_ ," Craig snaps. "About... the other part."

I look between Toke and Clyde trying to keep up. "What does that mean?" Clyde asks. "You don't believe in God anymore?"

Craig groans, "I don't know."

"Well, this is just great. Look what you did, Tweek. He just fucking abandoned his faith," Clyde rolls his eyes beginning to pace.

Pacing makes me anxious. Instead of voicing this though, I gap and say, "How's it my fault? If anyone's to blame, it's probably his fucking parents for making him think that God hates him and that this thing's that he has no control over is a choice." Craig looking at me ends my speech. He doesn't say anything.

"So, what?" asks Clyde. "That's it? No more God?" Craig simply shrugs. "Don't fucking do that. Talk to me, asshole. Is it cause Tweek's here? You don't wanna talk in front of him? Even though you apparently like him enough to let him fuck you-"

" _Hey_ ," I cut Clyde off. "Leave him alone. You think you're helping right now? He probably doesn't want to talk to you because you're being a dick, you fucking piss-face."

"C'mon, guys," Token says. "None of this is helping."

"I don't want to talk about it," Craig says. "So, let's just watch the fucking movie."

"Wanna smoke?" Toke asks the boy, reclining on the bed. Craig just nods and takes the bong from him. Clyde makes an unsatisfied face but settles in the bing bag next to Token, leaving the whole fucking king bed that is Token's bed to Craig and me. At first, Craig lays in the back and I sit criss cross in the front, we pass the bong back and forth a few times. After I get too tired of sitting up I lay across Craig's legs. I thought he'd be mad about it or grumble or something. Like he usually does. But, instead I get shudders down my spine when he begins to rake his fingers through my hair, absentmindedly. I nestle into him further. Craigs are nice to have around. Everyone should have a Craig.

Close to the end of the movie Craig and Clyde have dosed off and the doorbell rings. Toke starts to stand but I quickly tell him it's for me before gently picking myself up as to not wake Craig and head out of the room. I stretch and drag myself down the stairs. The bell rings again as I'm about to pull the door open. Kenny better not wake Craig up. This is good that he's sleeping so he won't even have to deal with Kenny.

"Hey, Ken," I greet the blonde. Kenny's sporting a heavy orange parka and a nice shiny black eye.

Regardless, he smiles and waves, "Tweek. How's it hanging, man?" I shrug and save him from the cold, letting him inside. He strips his jacket and let's it drop on the floor. "You look exhausted," he points out.

"I'm really high." And I had the hardest orgasm in the world today.

He nods. "I heard some things about you," he sings, leaning over to pull the laces of his boot loose.

"You're one to talk," I counter. "What the hell happen, man?"

Kenny scoffs standing up straight. He looks at me and says, "Wendy is fucking crazy. No wonder Stan was always dumping her and shit."

I want to agree. I really do. Especially since Wendy and I aren't exactly on speaking terms either but, that's not my character. Despite having no friends, I'm really nice to people. " _Fuck_ \- Stan's crazy too though so maybe that's how they've been together as long as they have," Kenny continues. "They weren't together. Stan talked so much shit about her too," Kenny counts off. "I wouldn't have done it if I knew he'd be so butt hurt, you know? But he said he didn't care who she was fucking _and_ Stan's got this thing with Bebe and I'm not crying about it." Kenny and Bebe were an item for maybe two weeks. I think. "Then he gets all mad at me talking about its different because they've been 'together' for years. Breaking up every couple of months is not 'together'," Kenny scoffs again. "Then that motherfucker hit me in my face!" Kenny looks appalled. "That's the only real hit he got though before I tackled that asshole. Kyle was screaming and shit and Cartman was laughing obviously but he actually helped separate us, which is good. I didn't want to fight Stan but he hit me in the face and I'm not a pussy." I feel like these are the teachings of Kenny's father and maybe his older brother too. "When Stan's calmed the fuck down, we can talk and probably be bros again."

"That's good..." I say. "What about Wendy though?"

"They'll probably get back together. I don't know."

"And you're okay with that that?"

Kenny shrugs, "Dude." Kenny takes a seat on the couch. "I don't know. We're only in high school. I don't take any of these relationships seriously. This is the time we have fun!"

"And that's what it's like to be Kenny McCormick."

He nods, laughing. Then he slowly becomes more serious, "But, enough about the stupid fight. What about you and Craig?"

I shrug, "Red, Annie, and Wendy came over the other day and Wendy accidentally told them. Now it's out. Craig is less upset than I thought he'd be... Well, he was really mad at first but I guess he likes me a lot or something. Isn't that weird?"

"That he likes you a lot?" I nod. "Mm," Kent shakes his head, "I don't think so. Craig isn't very expressive but he definitely has feelings."

"I know that but, why me?"

"Because you're awesome, Tweek." I give the blonde an apprehensive look. "Just ask him yourself then." I give him the same look. Kenny laughs. "Okay, whatever then. So, no problems at school?"

"Well, maybe there would have been," I say. "People only cared about the fight this morning and Craig and I didn't stay long enough to find out."

"Oh?" Kenny says. "You skipped?" I nod. He nods understandingly, " _That's_ why he wanted to buy this morning." I nod again. "He doesn't seem weird to you?"

"Craig always seems weird to me." I pause. "Wait, are you trying to tell me something's wrong with Craig that I'm not observant enough to notice myself?"

"Nah," Kenny says. "Just... When he bought the weed, he looked... Well, him looking anything other than apathetic and angry is cause for concern, right?" In your case.

Maybe Craig was nervous because he knew what he wanted to do later and Kenny picked up on it. It's good though, that he couldn't tell that it was nervousness and what the cause was. I'm sure if I lead him, even the slightest bit he'd get it, which is why I won't. "He seemed fine to me."

Kenny's eyes narrow. Shit. I should've been honest in a way that didn't reveal anything. Now he knows that I'm lying but, worse than that I think he knows I'm hiding something. "How peculiar."

"Anyway, hopefully people forget about it and brush it off as a rumor by the time breaks over."

"Yeah," Kenny says. A door opens upstairs and then another one that I recognize as the bathroom shuts. "I'm surprised that he's taking it so well then."

"Me too. You should've seen him though. He was pissed. I've never seen anyone that mad. He yelled at me. It was scary."

Kenny laughs, "Craig does do that."

"But then it was like he was fine and didn't care but-" I stop. Should I be disclosing this information to Kenny? How do I even know I can trust him? Kenny looks up at me expectantly. I consider my options, glancing up at the stairs. I sigh and take a seat next to Kenny on the couch. "Last night I woke up and he was having a panic attack in the bathroom and Clyde got up and like was talking him through it. Should that worry me? I talked to him about it and he acted fine; just said next time I shouldn't pretend to sleep through it."

Kenny stops me, "He was having a panic attack and you didn't help him?"

"I didn't know he was until Clyde got up and then like if I had gotten up it would've been weird and Clyde would have yelled at me that it was my fault. Then I'd have a panic attack. It would've just been... worse."

Kenny nods, "I get that. Clyde can be a prick sometimes."

The bathroom door opens again and Craig comes slugging down the stairs. He crinkles his nose at Kenny but sits on the same couch as the blonde. The other side of me on the couch but, same couch nonetheless. "Craig," says Kenny. "Hello."

Craig looks at Kenny like a dirty bug and ignores his greeting. Kenny shrugs nonchalantly. "We were just talking about you."

I shoot Kenny a glare. Kenny smirks ever so slightly and his eyes narrow a bit at the dark haired boy to my other side. "You look exhausted," he observes.

"You look like you got punched in the face," Craig counters.

"Busy day?" Kenny asks. "Well, you were with Tweek so, busy day with Tweek?" he rephrases.

Craig flicks Kenny off. "Yeah. It was. We had sex. Shut the fuck up."

Kenny stares past me at the boy with raised eyebrows, then he turns to me, and then he starts laughing really hard. My face flushes. "What the hell, Craig?!" Craig shrugs. "You couldn't let him find out and harass you, so your solution is to just blurt it out?"

"You guys are perfect," Kenny says between laughs. "You're so cute, Craig. I wish you were mine."

"Fucking back off, Kenny," I tell him, grabbing Craig with one arm around him. "He's fragile today. Just leave him alone." I did mean this in that he was probably mentally exhausted from dealing with the gay rumors but Kenny took it another way. A way that was also true but he wasn't supposed to know.

"Tweek topped?!" He starts laughing again. "Oh, my god," he gasps for air.

"Why's that so shocking?" I wonder out loud.

"It's not shocking that you topped. It's shocking that Craig bottomed."

"God, Kenny," Craig groans. "Go home."

Kenny snickers, "Yeah, yeah," he says. "I'll go soon. I have to go talk to Kyle and Cartman after this anyways. Best friend stuff."

Craig rolls his eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you guys were doing alright. With all the crazy that's going on."

"We're fine," Craig says, flatly.

Kenny sighs, "Okay." He stands. I follow him back to the door with his coat and boots. When he's all geared up again, he stops. "I'll tell anyone who asks that it was a stupid rumor." And people will believe him because he's Kenny, king of intuition and knower of all things. And it will be a lot of people because Kenny's popular. "I doubt people really believed it anyways." Well, I don't know about that.

"Thanks, Ken."

He grins, "No problem, man."

"Bye."

"See ya later."

When I turn around Craig has a weird face so I go over to him, squat down in front of him, and kiss him. It's a nice kiss. The kind that makes me wonder if I'm really in some romantic comedy movie. When I pull away I ask, "Why the face?"

Craig says, "Kenny's a nice guy..."

-x-x

 _I've literally been writing this all week. In class, between class, on the toilet, at home, before bed, in the morning. Last two chapters been so long too even tho I feel like they're so short! Review and whatever, thanks for the comments on the last chapter. I love you. And I love writing this stotry. Aughh. Disclaimer: I didn't proof read. I'm sorry :/_


	20. This Coffee's No Good

**Chapter Track: Coffee by Sylvan Esso**

Saturday evening I'm forced to work at the cafe. It was an unfortunate turn of events considering a few things. First and foremost was that it was the night of the formal that Clyde and Token were attending and Craig and I were not attending and I had hoped we'd spend the time together alone at Token's house while we 'waiting for them to return'. Second, is that tomorrow is Sunday and _Craig_ will be forced to go to church with his wicked birthers. But, to top it off and the worst of all three reasons this sucks is undoubtedly that almost immediately after my shift started Mama Tuck and Big Tuck entered the establishment.

Fuck, dude, can't catch a break.

I instantly stiffen. My next act is looking around for my parents because maybe I just so happen to have to go to the bathroom right now and need them to take over the register for me but of course this is the only time ever that they're both in the back. What the hell are they doing? I'm suddenly extremely concerned with my appearance.

At work, I should look my best, shouldn't I? Do I? Can I? What even is my best? Do I have one? Jesus Christ, I don't think so but I also know it can't be this: in my stupid coffee visor and apron with a silver name tag that has my name written across it in bold black letters. This stupid visor! I look gross. Like I make minimum wage or some shit. Like a stupid teenage degenerate that you'd hate to see your son with, that's what I look like. Thanks a lot, mom and dad. If Craig's parents find out we're dating, I'd hate for them to think I'm not going anywhere in life even though, I most likely _am_ not going anywhere and that should be the _least_ of my worries if they were to find out we're dating.

I've been thinking a lot about a lot lately and I've come to the realization that I know absolutely nothing. I just coast through life like nothing I do matters and I guess, astronomically it doesn't, but what about my future? I'd like to still be with Craig for one, but how realistic is that? And why shouldn't it be any more realistic than Stan and Wendy still being together? Which, my money is still on them getting married one day- note, I didn't say they'd be happy. And beyond Craig, what about careers and aspirations? I don't want to be stuck living with my parents, occasionally being forced to work the counter at their quaint, mildly successful cafe.

Which is currently how I'm spending my time and it will be how I spend my weekend.

I don't want to do this forever but there are too many factors to think about when it comes to 'planning my future'. I don't even know if I can live off by myself. My parents, despite being the life-sucking cretins that they are, keep me somewhat grounded or enough to where I'm not disturbing the public. I'm not smart enough to just go to college, nor do I excel in any particular skill- there's art, but honestly where would that get me? I don't think I want to stay here either. But then, what do I do? Where do I go? Honestly, these thoughts have been sending me spiraling deeper and deeper into a depression. And Craig seems to be in the same predicament. Craig's been all depressed about losing his faith or whatever. It's all pretty stupid to me honestly. I did, though, have a tremendous amount of respect for his ability to believe in something like he did… _before_ , I mean; his family too. Because to me, it's a crazy concept with a lot of missing pieces, I feel like the following chooses to overlook and justifies this with, 'faith'. "Just have faith". In _what_? _Why_? _How_? It all just seems pretty naïve to me. Well, if _I_ were to try it. But, seeing Craig and his family, it's weird. Besides the whole sexuality thing they struggle with (his parents, without even knowing), they seem really happy with everything simply because they think there's this Greater Power Being watching over their life and making sure everything's kosher, and that if they ever need him, he's there. I mean, I'd probably have like forty percent less anxiety if I knew when I died, that wasn't it. Instead, I had a good chance of going to this awesome place in the clouds.

Craig's parents approach the counter. His mom's hair is slicked back into a bun and she's wearing a nice sun dress. She looks like a mom- like a really good mom too. She looks like a mom that carries band aids in her purse. My mom had to carry gauze in her purse… she's great and all but honestly, my mom's just as much of a mess as I am and as her child, it doesn't give me much support. "Hello, Tweek, I didn't know you worked here too."

I stand up straight, "My parents make me work here sometimes on the weekend- but, I like it!" Ha, ha. "I get paid and I love coffee so it's a great summer job for me."

Mama Tuck giggles and Big Tuck looks unconcerned. It's an expression I've learned to get used to in the past few weeks. "This place is lovely," Mama Tuck tells me. "It's so homey and quaint."

"After we reopened, my parents got it renovated. They wanted it to have a homey feel. My mom didn't like the Harbucks remodel."

She nods, "That's nice that they were able to get it back."

"That Harbuck's was shit," Big Tuck says. His voice is so deep its frequency probably damages infants' eardrums. His voice is so loud, naturally. It doesn't make sense. He talks how I yell and people still might not hear me.

" _Thomas_ ," Mama Tuck slaps her husband's chest.

He shrugs, "What? If he's hanging with Craig then he's hearing way worse." This is true. I almost chuckle. I probably would have to if I weren't shitting my pants. "Anyway, I came here for coffee, not small talk. I'll take a dark roast."

"Y- Yes, sir!" I jump.

"Oh, Thomas, stop it! You're scaring him," Mama Tuck says. "How've you been, Tweek?"

"M-Me?" I repeat. She nods. "I'm fine… I'm great!"

"That's good," she says. "I like to know who my son is hanging out with, especially since he's with them more than he's with us." Aw, jeez… I'm supposed to _not_ like these people! But I'm starting to feel guilty. What am I guilty about?! Craig's faltering faith in God because I feel slightly responsible for that? That, when I'm talking to them right now everything seem great and okay but I know that if they knew what I was doing with their son, they'd probably want to kill me? Or that I'm basically lying to their face? Is this how Craig feels? If it is, I can see _why_ he's never home. This feels gross.

"Uhm, can I get you anything?" I ask Mama Tuck.

She smiles at me. Her eyes are exactly like Craig's, so much so that I'm dismissing his adoption conspiracy all together. I can tell he's his dad's son too by the way they both keeps this absent-minded scowl. "You pick," she tells me. "The best tea you've got."

"My mom makes the best chocolate green tea. It sounds weird but trust me it's amazing."

"Throw in a few of those pastry things," Big Tuck tells me, pointing to the display Cheese Danishes.

I make their drinks and bag a few pastries for Big Tuck. When Craig's mom tries to pay I wave her off, "It's on the house. I wouldn't make you pay."

She smiled so brightly at that. I didn't know a Tucker could smile so genuinely. She thanked me and talked to my mom a little before leaving with Big Tuck and I couldn't have been more relieved.

Twenty minutes later and I'm plotting ways to kill myself. "Aw, honey, perk up," my mother tells me, slapping my shoulder as she makes her way around the counter. "You'll scare off all the customers with that scowl." I glare at her. "Oh, c'mon," she says. "I know you don't want to be here but at least we're paying you."

My parents give me money when I ask for it. It's not like I'm asking for it often anyways. So them paying me isn't really that big of a deal. Also, most of my 'paycheck' goes towards the dishes I break and I end up with nothing really. "Also, Tweek," my mom sets down the rag in her hand. "I've been meaning to talk to you about… your medication." I blink at her. "You know it's about time for another appointment."

I narrow my eyes at her, "For what?"

"I know you don't like to but I really think you should start taking this stuff seriously, Tweek. Don't you want to be happy?"

"I am happy," I tell her. Craig makes me happy. The only thing that makes me unhappy is you and dad actually.

"You had an episode this month…"

"How do you know? It wasn't 'an episode'. I'm fine. I don't even need those stupid pills. I don't take them anyways."

"Tweek, stop being difficult," my mom snaps, quietly. I avert my eyes. "This is serious. You need to take your medication whether _you_ think you do or not. We are going to the doctors and we will let him decide."

The bell above the door jingles and my mom and I look up. My mom makes a face and tells me, "You need to straighten up." I almost laugh at her phrasing and ask her if the pun was intended but she might actually hit me in the face if I did that. She heads into the back and I'm grateful.

A smile spreads across my face. I probably look like a dumbass, especially to Craig, who looks completely apathetic as always. I just can't help it. Something about his stupid face makes my heart all throbby and my hands all shaky. It's an awesome and completely inconvenient feeling. I wish I could lean over the counter and kiss him but I know better. My smile falters when Clyde and Token enter behind him. Why does he insist on taking them wherever he goes? It's possible he was scared to come here alone, knowing my parents would be here and most likely see him talking to me. Whatever.

Clyde bust out laughing when he sees me. Token greets me with a wave. I grumble a hello. When they're close enough to the counter, Craig says, "You look like a douche."

"Oh, wow, thanks, Craig. I really needed that," I tell him. "Is there something you guys actually needed?"

"You… look…like… a dork!" Clyde cackles. He can't even talk because of how hard he's laughing. I'd totally be laughing too if I could see myself out of body right now but since I can't and I know he's laughing at me and it's almost humiliating, I refrain, instead, narrowing my eyes at the brunette.

Craig leans against the counter, his eyes scanning the menu briefly before returning to my own. "What's good?" he asks me.

I scoff, "What?"

"I want coffee or tea or something- whatever- so, what's good here?" Craig explains.

"Why? Why are you guys eating here today?" I ask, skeptically. Did they just come here to torture me and laugh at me? "You don't even like coffee!" I point out.

"Because I knew you'd be all pissy about working with your parents… I don't know. Do you want us to leave?"

"Hmm…" I hum, in thought. If Clyde's going to laugh at me the whole time, then maybe. Actually, I only really want Clyde to leave. "No, I guess not. I'm just- That's just- The whole thing is suspect!"

"You're just being paranoid," Craig tells me. "We came because we're your friends and that's what friends do. They come to your work to make you feel better."

"Friends…" I mutter.

"Yeah," Craig says. "So take our fucking order already or I'm gonna tell the manager you suck."

"Please do," I say. "Maybe then they'll stop making me do this shit."

"I'm totally giving this place a bad review on Yelp since it's taking decades to just get our order taken," Clyde says. Token shakes his head, mostly distracted by his phone.

I sigh, "What do you want?"

"Why do you have an attitude?" Craig asks. "Put employees have bad attitudes in the review, Clyde." I groan. "And I asked you what was good."

"The Chocolate Green Tea is pretty amazing," I tell him. "Your mom seemed to like it."

This catches Craig's attention just like I thought it might. Well, I Mean, I don't know. Not a lot of things peak Craig's interest. He's a pretty apathetic guy. "My mom came in?"

"And your dad. He's scary, but they're nice."

Craig shrugs, "From certain angles."

"So, how's it going with the formal shit?" I ask Clyde who's been standing pretty idle behind Craig with his hands in his pockets. I can tell he's pretending to not listen to us and I guess I can respect that.

"Meh," he says. "It's not like it's prom or something. But, the girls are excited enough for all of us. I just want some ass," Clyde says. "Plus," he adds, "After what they did to you guys, I'm pretty sure no serious relationships gonna come out of this."

I nod, "Understandable."

"When do you get off, man? It'd be nice if you could watch Craig for us while we're gone." The funny part is how serious Clyde is. Craig immediately defends himself saying something about him being old enough, blah, blah but no one hears him because I'm still thinking about how much Clyde and Token act like Craig's parents. I wonder why. I feel like something happened… What else could it be? All the hinting at something they don't want me to know and seemingly unnecessary worrying about Craig. I wonder what he did to make them so uptight?

"Craig's a big boy. He can take care of himself," I agree. "And anyway, I'm working all day." I feel like I'm on punishment or something. "What'd you think he's gonna do?"

Clyde simply shrugs, "He's gonna be at Token's and his house is… pretty big."

"So?"

"Maybe tonight's the night that some robber-rapist realizes that Token's parents are never home and neither will he because of the formal, and decided to rob them. I'd just hate for Craig to be the only person there if and when that happens," he says. "But, I'm probably just being paranoid." Holy shit.

What if Craig gets raped? Or _killed_? Or both or reversed?! It'd be my fault because I should've been there. I grab my face.

"Clyde, you motherfucker," Craig grumbles.

"Hey," Clyde puts his hands up in defense. "I'm just trying to get him with you tonight, Craig. You should be playing into this."

"Clyde, don't be a douche," Token tells the brunette without looking up. "But, yeah, I guess there's always that possibility."

Craig turns to Token. "Really?" Token shrugs.

"Hm," I say. "Can you guys please order already so I can get to my other customers?"

Clyde looks around the shop, dramatically. Token glances up as well, "What customers?"

" _Okay_ , whatever. I'll ask to get off early. Jesus Christ. Leave me alone."

"I'll have a soy vanilla latte with caramel," Token tells me.

"You know," I say, grabbing a cup from the stack. "Stress can lead to Heart disease and obesity."

"We're gonna die someday," Clyde concludes. "I'll have a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, thanks."

I work on their drinks after giving my mom the order for the tea for Craig. Token tries to pay and maybe I should've accepted since I already gave Craig's parents all that free stuff earlier but I don't. Hopefully, my parents will be so fed up with my stupid work ethics and stop making me do this.

When it's all done, I hand them the drink and drape myself over the counter like Craig is so our faces are inches apart. I try not to look at his lips which leads to staring at them in a way that's obvious what my desires are. Clyde and Token drift off and I'm glad. "Your mom's like right there, Tweek," he mumbles.

"I know," I say. "But, they know, don't they?"

"Yeah, and you said they did not approve, _didn't you_?"

"Don't mock me, asshole. It's rude."

"Whoa," says Craig. "Pardon me."

"Fuck off," I grumble, standing up straight again. "Way to ruin the mood."

"We're in your parents coffee shop," he points out, "there was no _mood_."

"Maybe not," I agree, "but, that's only 'cause you're an apathetic asshole. You don't have any moods." This was supposed to be an insult but I don't think Craig cares much.

"Quit calling me an asshole, dick head." Holy shit. Turns out he cares about something.

"Then quit acting like an asshole, metal mouth." Craig stops and glares at me. I blink at him innocently. Maybe Craig's not that hard to figure out after all and maybe I do know the few things that'd hurt his feelings, but why would I want to do that? Also, I didn't think his braces would be one of them. "How's the tea?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "What?" I say. "You're really mad? About the metal mouth thing? Why? I think your braces are so cute, Craig. I promise. I was just being a douche, but you're like, always a douche."

"Wow."

I snicker, "I'm kissing- I mean, kidding."

"Jesus, Tweek," _Tweek_. "Get your shit together."

"Only if you say my name one more time."

Craig tries to glare harder but cracks a small smile and averts his eyes. He sighs, "Are you gonna come over tonight?"

"I'm gonna try…" I promise. "Don't forget me if I can't?"

Craig sighs, "You're so dramatic."

"If I can… can I finally draw you?"

Craig shrugs, "I don't care."

"Of course not," I say. "The tea's good then?"

"It's alright."

"Don't trash us on Yelp."

"Never was."

There's a clank behind me and I jump, glancing over my shoulder at my mom. I don't understand how she wants me to make friends and everything but then, gets mad when I have a boyfriend. I scrunch my nose unintentionally and turn back to Craig. He looks like he wants to say something. It's probably about my mom though and that's why he doesn't.

"Tweek, come clean the tables. I'll take the register," my mom calls.

"See you later," Craig says, glancing at our hands before standing and joining Token and Clyde. As they're walking past the window, I see Clyde stop and tell the other two something. I imagine it was something like, 'I'll catch up' because he turns around and reenters the store.

I furrow my brow at him as he approaches me. "What, Clyde?" I ask him, returning to the table I'm currently cleaning.

Clyde shifts a lot in his spot, thinking about what he's gonna say. "Craig's been in like, a really bad mood today," he tells me.

"He seemed fine to me."

Clyde rolls his eyes. "Fuck, Tweek, you're really stupid," he says. "When we came here, he got all happy- well, for Craig- probably from seeing you..."

My face heats up, but I keep my head down so Clyde doesn't notice. "So?"

Clyde shrugs, "I don't know. Talk to him. He won't talk to me anymore and this is your fault anyways."

"Why do you act like Craig can't take care of himself? He seems quite capable. Even more so than me sometimes."

"Look," Clyde says, smacking his hand on the table so I'll look up at him. I'm shocked enough to do so and even drop my rag. " _You said you'd take care of him_." Clyde stares into my eyes with such seriousness that it scares me. "Talk to him. Tonight. _Please_."

"Okay," I agree.

"Thank you." When Clyde turns around and I look up, Craig's at the window with his hands pressed against the glass and his face so close his nose touches it and leaves fog where he's breathing. He's just staring at us. I wonder how long he's been there. "Ugh," Clyde says. "Why's he gotta be so weird sometimes?" I blow him a kiss. "You guys are made for each other," he decides before bidding his final farewell and exiting the shop for good.

Craig didn't catch my kiss. It floats around the air, aimlessly.

* * *

 _I shit you not, I rewrote this chapter five times. FIVE times and it wasn't like a starts with 200 words and dislikes it so I scrap it. I wrote five 2,000 word chapters and didn't like a single one. I don't even really like this one, it's just the best of the worse and I need to get through this block so here ya go. Enjoy. Also, I wanted to say that with the thing with the 'wow' chapter, I wasn't trying to say don't critique me. I want you guys to, I really appreciate when you do. I was just upset about it being on another story and not this story blah blah blah. We're all good in the hood though! and hopefully this will get me through this stupid road block ugh._

 _u guis should suggets music for me._


	21. Awko Taco

**Chapter Track: I'm Into You by Chet Faker**

The days get dark so early here. I wonder what it would be like to live somewhere where the sun is out until eight at night. If the days were longer, you could get more done. Places that get dark around five are for lazy people. It feels like the day is over and all anyone wants to do is go home and sit in front of the fire.

I can't believe I'm walking to Token's right now. It's freezing. You know what? I can believe it because Craig's been making me feel really weird lately and I think there's not much I wouldn't do for him. I had to walk out of the café. I knew my parents wouldn't let me leave, especially if I told them where I was going. I guess I could've lied and said I wanted to go to the formal, which they would have been happy about and even given me money for it, probably but hindsight's always 20/20. It doesn't matter anyways. I'm almost there by now.

But now, my feet are numb, my face is numb, I'm wet, and covered in melted snow. I should've drove but the car is with my parents at work and my mentality was that nothing in South Park is too far but when it's snowing this hard with half a foot of snow on the ground and Token's house is in the rich neighborhoods out of town and up a big hill, I guess, I didn't really think this through. Luckily, I'm walking up the hill now so in a few minutes I'll be home free and in the lovely warmth of Token's mansion, hopefully cuddling a Craig.

I want to ask Craig tonight why Clyde babies him so much. I doubt he'll tell me anyways but I feel closer to him somehow. Well, I guess I know how, but I mean emotionally, not physically. But physically too...

Clyde said he isn't talking to him anymore. I don't know what that means. Is he so depressed that he won't even talk to his best friend about it? I don't know why Clyde thinks he'll talk to me but it's worth a shot. Craig always seems really complicated and then turns out to be so simple minded. I wonder if I could get him to smile like his mom did today. Before when we were together I'd focus on trying to make him laugh but somewhere along the way I just accepted his neutral face and expressions. Maybe I should go back to that.

I just hope this funk isn't a real problem for him because I know, as hopeful as we are, his parents finding out now is inevitable. I'm just waiting for it. I'm assuming that they don't know yet since they came in the shop today but maybe... they came in because they know. It didn't seem so. I don't know. I'm too paranoid to take my thoughts seriously anyways. The point is, when they do I don't know how they're gonna react or if they're gonna be mad. I've heard the horror stories. They could be so mad they kick Craig out or send him away. And I think if you add that to his current mood, he'd fall apart. I don't know if Craig can even compute that abundance of emotions. And, as curious as I am, I'd rather not see it.

So, Clyde's right. I need to nip this in the butt. I need to assure Craig it's going to be okay and if he doesn't believe me which he probably won't, we need to talk about what we have to do to make it okay. It's crazy coming from me because I'm so unstable myself. Can I be sure about anything? I need to fucking pretend that I can. For Craig. Right? Shit.

When I can see the Blacks house in the distance I start a slow jog. It's hard because the snow is so thick. My last step in the snow pulls so hard my shoe comes off. I, by impulse, stop to try to receive it but quickly realize that it would be an impossible task. The snow is so thick and my shoe is long gone and also not worth the cold and wetness my arm would have to endure.

I figure Craig's upstairs so I won't bother him to let me in, especially when I know how to let myself in. I go through the whole procedure. It's more tedious than I anticipated. Because I'm taller than Craig I had thought it might be easier but it's also snowing harder today so, climbing a tree plus my missing shoe and my foot is scrapped to hell and my hands are numb and wet. I might as well have grabbed my shoe. Shit, man.

I finally reach the nest and yank the key from it before falling for the second time into a pile of icy cold snow. It touches every exposed piece of skin on my body; my face, my hands, and even the tiny hole in my sock endures the biting weather. I pull myself off the ground, regretting every decision I've made today, starting with working with my parents. I brush the snow off of my coat and trudge up to Token's back door.

I shove the key in the lock and push open the door, breathing out a sigh of relief when the heat engulfs my body. I press the door shut behind me, kick off my shoes, drop my wet coat and enter the kitchen. I grab a snack while passing through, just an apple. I think about grabbing one for Craig but he probably already ate.

I finish half the apple in the kitchen in the dark, just watching the snow fall outside. It's a lot prettier when you're not walking through it. Or maybe it could be and I just focus on the negative side of things. I shrug and leave my apple on the dining table, promising to take care of it before I leave but right now I want to see Craig. I want to kiss Craig actually. A lot. Hard, maybe even.

But I stop.

I heard a noise. It's a weird noise. Someone's in the living room. It has to be Craig right? I know it is but I'm psyched out by what Clyde said earlier. I know that's the stupidest thing ever but I'm a paranoid person so shut up.

Suddenly aware of every sound I make, I tip toe to the opening between the kitchen and living room. I peak from around the corner slightly, heart pounding in my chest. I hope I don't die today. At least not before kissing Craig. Would an intruder be accommodating to that? I'd have to give away that Craig's here too though. They'd probably find him anyways right? I should try to save him though...

My eyes widen and I quickly pull my head away from the door-less frame. Holy shit. I blush hard. Holy shit. I should've knocked. Holy shit. I'm the intruder. I'm creeping around a house Craig thinks is empty. I didn't even text. He doesn't even know I'm coming- here. He doesn't even know I'm here and now... Jesus.

I peek around the corner again. Craig in the living room. He's the one that made the noise. And the noise, well, it might have been a moan... He's on the couch- he's laying on the couch- facing away from me (thank god) and he's- he's... fucking hell, he's masturbating.

I can see his hair spilling over the arm of the couch. He's in his T shirt and boxer but his boxer are lowered around his thighs. My stomach tightens. I'm so ashamed to be turned on right now. Am I? Mildly. I'm mildly ashamed to be turned on right now.

His knees are apart with one resting against the back of the couch and the other hanging somewhat over the edge. The hand that he doesn't have wrapped around himself is supporting his head and tussles of hair. Gosh, he's beautiful in everything he fucking does.

Whether or not I come out right at this moment or in two minutes he's gonna realize I showed up and saw him so I'm thinking it doesn't make a difference. Ha. I'm a terrible person. Craig exhales heavily and I clench my teeth. Oh, man.

Bump what I said earlier. I'm not ashamed to be turned on by my boyfriend masturbating, I'm ashamed that I'm almost overjoyed about my timing and decisions to not inform Craig I was coming so that these events could occur.

I wonder if he ever uses his fingers. I bite my lip. It doesn't surprise me that he doesn't watch anything to get off but I'm curious about what he's thinking about. I flash back to that time I made him admit it was me but am suspicious that he was lying. I know I jack off thinking about Craig, though I hardly jack off anymore since we started seeing each other. When I do, it's hard not to. I just can't _not_ think about him naked when I'm turned on. Plus the dark hair, light eyes thing is so attractive to me especially with his jaw and when Craig gets stubble I want to shoot myself that I can't kiss him in public.

I watch Craig a little longer just to see his technique because I believe that if you really wanna know how to get people off, watching them masturbate is the perfect way. You know yourself best but Craig doesn't wanna talk about that stuff and he'd never masturbate in front of me if I asked. But when Craig lets out a quiet moan that sends a shudder through my body, I stand up straight and walk into the living room.

Craig doesn't notice me until I speak. "That's hot."

He jumps, covering himself with his shirt quickly before his head whips around. "Tweek! What the shit?!" Craig's his reddest shade. Or at least the reddest I've seen him. "God, fucking heard of knocking? Or calling?"

"It's kinda rude to jack off on other people's couch, huh?"

"Goddamn it, Tweek! Get out!" He spits furiously.

I laugh. He's being really cute right now. Unbearably so. "I've seen you naked before. I've seen you with a boner before. Calm down." I walk towards the couch. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

"How fucking long were you there?!"

"Not relevant," I decide, stopping in front of him.

"You're such a fucking prick. I hate you."

I take his leg and move him so he's sitting upright on the couch with his legs hanging over. "What are you doing? Don't touch me." But he lets me move his legs apart. I kneel in front of him. "Tweek."

"God, you're beautiful," I tell him. And I've said it before... but it's weird this time and Craig notices too. It's more sincere even though I've meant it every time. This time it's almost scary. We both chose to ignore it though and it's most likely because I'm about to blow him, either way I'm happy we do.

I take his hands away from his crotch revealing his erection once more. I place my hand at the base of his shaft and take the head in my mouth. I don't know exactly how long Craig's been at it but I can assume he's pretty much done which is good because I'm trying really hard to not get hard right now.

As soon as I touch him his head drops back against the couch. Slowly, more of Craig's length enters my mouth until he's hitting the back of my throat. He covers his mouth with his hand. I'd stop his action if I were also trying to get off but since his moans really turn me on I'm glad he does this. I drag my lips all the way back up him while my hand starts to move at the base of his dick, jacking him faster because I know he's almost there. His hips buck into my hand and I'm so overwhelmed with my feelings for him at this moment, I wish I didn't have a dick in my mouth. So I push the thoughts aside to address later. Maybe at a more appropriate time. Three in the morning sounds good. Craig laces his fingers into my hair which I promptly put a stop to because I'm trying really, really hard to not get a boner and like all the odds are against me.

It doesn't take much before Craig comes and I realize there was no condom used again and I'm disappointed in myself. Like, a little bit I guess.

I'm forced to swallow since I don't know what else to do that wouldn't be awkward and park myself on the couch next to Craig. I realize that he might not want to kiss me since I just swallowed his load but I don't fucking care because _I just swallowed his load_. So I politely tuck himself back into his boxers while he catches his breath and then tilt his face towards mine to take his lips. We kiss for a minute before I release him and he sighs.

"Thanks."

I groan, "Don't thank me for giving you a blow job. It's weird."

"You know what's really weird? You, calling me beautiful."

"I call you beautiful all the time," I point out.

"Yeah," he says. "But, it's just how you said it."

"Ha. That doesn't make any sense, Craig. You should just stop talking."

"Hm," is his only response. Then he changes the subject thankfully because it's definitely not three in the morning yet. "Don't ever do that again, Tweek. Not okay."

I shrug. "It seemed okay."

Craig rolls his eyes, standing. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," I follow Craig into the kitchen. "You didn't eat?"

He shrugs, "I did a while ago but I'm hungry again."

"Should we like, cook something?"

Craig glances at me skeptically, "What do _you_ know how to cook?"

"Uhm," I say. "Well, not much but I can cook. I used to watch my mom cook all the time when I was little. I was like way gayer when I was little."

Craig pulls the fridge door opens and smiles. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah," I tell him. "You should remember, Craig. I was such a pussy and I was always taking my mom's shit. Seemed like something I should've been doing. She'd always get so mad about it though. 'Cause her OCD, you know?"

Craig nods, "Well, what're your specialties because I can make ramen and mac and cheese."

I think. "Depends on what Toke has in stock."

Craig laughs. "He's pretty stocked."

"Do you have any preferences?" This I'm fully tuned in for. I'm learning stuff about Craig and it interests me.

"I don't like tomatoes or spicy food, if that's what you mean."

"We could make quesadillas."

Craig nods, "Yeah, okay."

I figure Token has all the necessary ingredients because Clyde's always making tacos. I picked quesadillas because it's literally just cheese and chicken and the tortilla grilled for a few minutes. And even though in my perfect world Craig and I romantically cooked the meal together like a real couple, it was still perfect with him sitting at the table watching me cook. He continued to ask about my childhood which I thought was cute and proved he was as interested in my life as I was his.

"Did you ever dress in her clothes- your mom?"

I nod, "Dress, heels, the whole shebang." I have to cook the chicken first since Token doesn't have any pre-grilled.

"Your parents didn't care?"

"They thought it was cute," I say, while grilling. When he doesn't say anything I ask, "Did you?"

Craig laughs, "I feel like you should already know the answer to that."

"Did you want to?" I rephrase.

Craig hums, "It never crossed my mind." He shrugs, "Probably not. Dressing like a girl isn't my thing."

This time I laugh, "It isn't _my_ _thing_. I was just comfortable with myself enough as a five year old to do it. I didn't see anything wrong with it. I don't know. I get what you're saying. I was just playing dress up. I dressed as super heroes too and shit."

"Hm," he agrees.

"Did you ever feel like... there were things you wanted to do but didn't because your parents?"

"Yeah," he says, vaguely. "But, I don't know," he says. "I always thought maybe I just hadn't met the right girl. Then I just didn't care because it didn't seem worth it."

"So," I say slyly, glancing over my shoulder. "You admit you're gay?"

Instead of joking with me or even just being apathetic as always Craig seems down about my question. I curse in my head because I should have never asked.

"I'm not... ready to," he says. "Why does it matter if I label it?" he asks. "I'm with you, aren't I? Isn't that enough?"

"Of course," I reply instantly. "I- I didn't mean- I shouldn't have said- I'm- I'm sorry."

"Forget it," he says. I quietly set up the quesadillas before placing them both in the pan. "Your mom was tense when we came in the shop today. Was it because of me?"

I scoff, "They're losing their goddamn minds. First with the boyfriend thing and now they're just purposely trying to piss me off."

"What do you mean?"

"Talking about taking me to the doctors and shit," I rant, flipping a tortilla.

"Why?"

I pause. I never told Craig. I never told anyone. I forget that they all don't just know. I assume since they all think I'm crazy they know about everything... "Tweek."

"I don't know," I mumble.

"Why would she take you to the doctors? Are you okay?"

"To recalibrate my meds," I say quickly. "That's it. I just- I don't even take them. I don't even like my meds and they're always taking blood because I'm vitamin D deficient. It's bullshit."

"Oh," Craig says. He taps the table annoyingly until I sigh and turn around. "What are the meds for?"

I snort, "None of your business, metal mouth."

"Don't make that a thing because if anyone else calls me that I'm gonna bust their fucking face in." I laugh. "And," he says. "I'll tell you what mine are for if you tell me what yours are for." This is an absolutely fair trade, I think. I mean, I don't know if he would have just told me if I asked but I also didn't know for certain that Craig had meds. It was just a conspiracy of mine.

I narrow my eyes at him, "Promise?"

"I'll even go first," he says. "I don't care."

"Oh yeah?" I ask him amused. "Okay," I turn back to the stove. "Go ahead."

"Depression," he says. "Now go," he orders.

He wants me to answer before I can think about what he's said. So I do, "Bipolar disorder."

"Oh," he says.

"Oh," I repeat.

"Do you wanna talk about?"

"Do you?" I counter.

"I don't take my meds either," he tells me.

"Why?" I say. "They don't make you feel better?"

"I'd like to feel better without them," he says. "I don't want to feel like I need a pill to be normal." _Exactly_. I smile. "And what is that? Mood swings?"

I shrug, "That's part of it. I don't know, Craig. Google it."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because I don't want to talk about it," I say, dumping the quesadilla onto a plate.

"Is that why you blacked out and almost killed Cartman?"

" _Almost killed_? I didn't! Right? I didn't almost kill him! I just punched him a lot... And fuck off. People get mad all the time. You even said you've people in hospitals."

"I'm an angry shit," he says. "And I remember doing it."

"Craig, shut up." I plate the food for both of us. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't care that you have a disorder," he says. I just want to know."

"Okay, yeah, it might be but that hasn't really happened before so maybe it might be something else. Maybe it might be something worse. I don't want to go to the doctors though because I feel like I already know the answer," I hand him his plate. He's quiet. "Happy, asshole? _Fuck_. Metal mouth." I'm trying to make myself feel better because now I'm tense and I don't want to be. Taking it out on Craig is only making it worse though so I shut my mouth and stare out the window.

"It's... clinical depression," he says. "Just to be clear."

"Hm..." I take a bite off my plate, watching the snow fall and counting the specks. I don't want to be crazy but the more I think about the stupid reality and everything that's wrong with me, it makes me want to act crazy just because it triggers my stress. "Isn't that... major?"

He shrugs, "Sometimes. It's a cycle. I have to remember that because it never feels like I've been through it before when I go through it."

"Are you going through it now?"

He shrugs. "I don't wanna talk about it," he mocks.

I sigh and we eat in silence.

"Earlier when Clyde came in the shop he said you had been sad all day."

"Not sad," he cuts me off.

"Okay," I say. "Then what's your version of the story?"

"I haven't been sad. Clyde's just a dumb shit."

"Yeah," I agree. "But he seems to care about you. Doesn't seem like something he'd lie about."

"Well, whatever."

"I get why you'd be sad. I just wanna make sure you're okay."

Craig raises his eyebrows. "You wanna make sure I'm okay?" he repeats with a sarcastic laugh. "Or _Clyde_ wants you to make sure I'm okay."

"Clyde," I admit. "I think you're fine but he doesn't. I just wanna know why he's asking me to take care of you like something's wrong with you."

"Because he's a nosy asshole."

"Really, Craig." I glance up at him. "I thought about it since you guys talk about it so much. I think something happened a long time ago. Was there another guy?"

"I told you. You were my first."

I shrug, "I know I just thought-"

"My first everything, Tweek. You're my first everything. There's no other guy, never was."

"Okay," I blush. "Did you… do something?" Craig doesn't answer. He takes a bite from his plate. "What'd you do? Run away? Did your parents get real mad at you or something? Can I have a hint?"

"Mm... That, I really don't want to talk about."

"How come?"

"Doesn't matter anymore. And bringing it back up might actually make me depressed and everything we've talked about so far is doing just that. You're one of the only things that make me feel okay so don't ruin it."

"What the hell does that mean? What happened?"

"Wow. This quesadilla was better than Clyde's. Wanna watch a movie or something?" Craig stands up and takes his plate to the sink. "I doubt they're coming back tonight so we can do whatever we want."

I snort, "Even masturbate in the living room."

"Wow. Let it go," Craig says, taking my plate too once I stand. "But I mean, technically, yes, we could. We could do a lot of things in a lot of places."

"Even right here," I point out, approaching Craig from behind. "You know," I say. "My mom was so pissed when she saw your hicky. I love it though. It looks like art. I painting something inspired by it."

He shakes his head but I can tell he's smiling, which is weird. He never smiles. I like when he does. "Weirdo."

Craig is rinsing the dishes in the sink. I press my body against his back and rest my head in his shoulder. I like being like this with Craig even though we both at some point probably mocked the couples that acted this affectionate.

I move my hands down his sides lightly and stop at his hips, slowly closing my fingers around him. I let out a heavy sigh. Our talk has emotionally drained me. Craig too, most likely. More than me maybe. I turn my head a little bit so that my nose nuzzles his neck. He smells like smoke. He smells like he's been smoking a fucking lot. Under that, he smells like Craig; testosterone and old cologne.

One of my hand drifts over his hip and up under his shirt. I press him against me more. "You smell like a chimney," I mumble against his skin. "Do your lungs hurt?" I wonder, my hand passing over his chest.

He shifts, "Mmm, yeah, but besides you cigarettes and weed are the only things that make me okay."

"And let me guess," I say. "Out of weed?" He nods. "And what would you do for me if I had some?"

He smirks, "I knew it. What are you waiting for?"

I shrug kissing his neck. "Do we pick the movie before or after we're high?"

"After," he says.

" I already rolled it and everything," I tell him.

"Just one?"

I laugh, "fuck no. I worked really hard today Craig and I only dropped like two glasses and one coffee pot. I have three rolled ones but that's just what I brought."

Craig groans. "I wanna kiss you," he announces. I feel like he means to award me for my good behavior. That being me bringing him weed which I think is funny so I chuckle but he pushes me back so he can turn around to face me and leans up to press his lips on mine. It seems like he meant to stop but he doesn't. Instead, he wraps his arms around my neck to hold himself in place and I lean on my palms against the counter. He plays with the hair at the nape of my neck. I nip at his bottom lip before pulling away.

"Your hair's starting to make you look like a hobo," I tell him. A cute hobo but a hobo nonetheless. It's not as long as mine at all but it's pretty long for him. I wonder if he lets it grow out like this often and just hides it with a hat. It's started to curl at the ends, just barely. If he started growing a beard he'd start to look like a real hipster.

"Oh," he says.

"I brought my sketchbook. Let me draw you later."

"Okay."

Craig and I bring everything to the room we've claimed as our own. I have to stop at first to take off my jeans because Craig's not wearing any and they're uncomfortable. I shoved them under the opening of the door and pull out one of my joints before lighting it and blowing smoke all over the small room. I take another hit and then hand it off to Craig.

He falls back with it in his mouth. He doesn't even bother to remove it, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. Realizing that Craig intended on taking it as his own, I pulled out a second joint and lit it for myself. I stand in front of the window. Outside, it's gotten dark and the snow looks blue from the moon's light.

Craig sighs so I glance at him. His eyes are closed and his shirt's started to ride up. It's enough to where I can see his happy trail get wider and then disappear into his boxers that are low on his hips. I wet my lips and take advantage of his oblivion. The room's already foggy and my eyes are already low. I drag myself over to the bed and drape myself across Craig's abdominal. He doesn't seem to mind. He doesn't even acknowledge me, except for a hand that lazily drops behind my neck to mess with the hair there. It's soothing.

"Tweek," Craig says.

"Mmm?" I reply.

"Let's get wasted."

* * *

 _Hey how are you. I'm swell just returned from a GUNS N ROSES CONCERT WOOO OMFG I LOVE SLASH SO HARD YOU GUYS YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW SOMEONE HELP ME I'M DEAD. Haha, sorry, anyway hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll be posting part 2 soon and review your thoughts. Love you. bye_


	22. If You Go Too Deep You Will Drown

**Chapter Track: So High by Doja Cat**

I stare into Craig's irises. He stares back. Somehow I feel like he enjoys this a lot more than I do. Not to say I don't enjoy staring into Craig's lovely borderline translucent eyes because I fucking love it. It inspires me. It's just hard because they're so intense and icy and then I think about Craig naked and it's hard to not get a boner. I think Craig can do it without thinking so much or maybe he just has nice thoughts about me. I doubt my eyes are very threatening though.

I take a sip from my mug and he takes another shot. We both grimace. Pure black coffee with extra coffee. It tastes like death but blissful death, I think. Craig has whiskey or something. I kinda want to switch because, although I can get some sort of high from coffee alone which, I know how that sounds but fuck off, but right now I want to get drunk. Like Craig. But I also wanna see Craig drunk when I'm not. I think it'd be funny and he'll be like an actual person.

Don't ask what we're doing either because I don't fucking know. When weird people get left alone in their friends huge house while their at a stupid school dance, I guess you get here; taking coffee shots with your boyfriend. Except he's drinking actual shots. Why are we doing this?

I think this stare off is us seeing who can go longer without kissing first which I think is about as fucking stupid as that time we were having a stare off when I was on my roof and he was lurking around. I should just do it but I also think he's getting drunk and the drunker he gets the more likely he'll be to cave first. I'm too far in to lose now.

Craig's next shot is offered to me and I take it because I feel I deserve it and can hold one shot compared to his five. It goes down like fire. It's worse than the coffee. At least I have a tolerance for that. "I need a chaser," Craig says. I offer him my coffee and he falls back against the bed.

When Craig fell back his shirt rode up a little bit, exposing his midriff. God, he does this on purpose. I grab his arms and pull him back up. It's surprisingly difficult. Craig's been a lot drunker than I even thought he was. Once I have him up right again he slowly opens his eyes. We start our staring again but now he actually looks intoxicated. His eyelids hang a little lower and instead of apathetic, Craig kinda looks... Mm. "Stop making that face," I say.

"I'm not making a face; this is my face."

"Well then, make a new face," I tell him, poking his cheek.

"Or what?" Craig dares. _Something with penises, that's for sure_. Craig is tittering on a line where I feel like I have control or maybe I'm about to jump his bones. If I cross that line there's no going back. Shit, but then I lose. And he knows it.

Bastard. I glare at him and try to hold completely still. It's impossible with all this expresso pumping through my veins but at least I'm sitting back and not sniffing at his neck. Then Craig falls back again. He yawns and starts to stretch, exposing more of his abdominal. The way his eyes draw back to me when he finishes leads me to believe this is all intentional. I swallow. He's too good at this. Has he been practicing? Like, in a mirror. Or was he just holding back before? Or maybe this is what it's like to be sober when Craig's drunk. We should do this more often. Craig hat finally comes off, sort of, in his maneuvers. His longer than normal hair makes him look like a hippy or one of those grungy tree kids that don't bathe regularly. Somehow he always manages to look so cool though. I wonder if my hair makes me look like a hippy. His isn't as long as mine is, not even close but it's long for him.

He sits back up and throws his shirt over his head, tossing it off the bed. I nod. Good move. I could almost kiss him but, instead I take a gulp of black steamy liquid. Bitter, tart, dark; I'm gonna vomit. Craig's eyebrow twitches and he slowly pours another shot. He takes a deep breath and downs it quickly. He shivers and shakes the taste away. It probably doesn't actually work. His longer than average hair whips around his head. I recall Craig saying something about allowing me to draw him. I want to do it with him like this; shaggy hair (somewhat), shirtless, and in his boxers. He falls back into his laying position.

"Stop being stubborn. I don't want you to get alcohol poisoning and die or something."

"I can hold my liquor," Craig mumbles.

"Can you even sit up?"

"With enough motivation, yes."

"Can I draw you?"

"Knock yourself out," he glances at me without moving. I roll off the mattresses to snatch my sketchbook and pencils. I plop back into place and start sketching Craig as he is. That is, sprawled out with one arm above his head, the other across his stomach, and his eyes resting peacefully. It's just a quick sketch, enough to be distinguishable. It's a lot easier drawing Craig with reference right in front of me. "Next pose," I try, wondering if the niorette was even still conscious.

He can barely roll himself over. When he does, he uses his arms to push himself up and with one leg spread out, he brings his other knee in and rests his elbow on it and then rests his face on his hand, eyes slightly parted. "Wow," I mutter in awe. How could such a creation exist? They say nobody's perfect but I think Craig comes pretty freaking close. No one should be allowed to look like this. God, Craig's voice alone could get me off. His smell could get me off. Just looking at him could get me off. I take a moment to reposition some of his limbs.

My hand scribbles furiously. I trace down the arch of his spine, up his calf, every finger, the way his thumb is pressed into his cheek, the creases in his boxers, his hair hanging over his expressionless face, the curve of his jaw, and his strong collar bone. I switch to a darker pencil to shade in his hair and the shadows on his face. I add his faded hickys too.

Craig chooses to sit Indian style for his next pose, staring directly at me. So, for this sketch I focus on his eyes, drawing them first and then the rest of his face and then his body.

Craig and I try five more pretty appropriate poses before he's holding himself above me with his hands on my shoulders and his boxers riding quite low, with heavy eyelids and parted lips. His eyes don't move from my lips this pose. I try to act like I don't even notice. "How do you do that?" he asks when I finish this sketch. I like this one the best because there's some actual emotion in Craig's face; lust.

I shrug, "You're easy to draw because I look at you a lot and you're pretty symmetrical too. That's a good thing." He stares at me. "I don't know. You're drawable." He keeps staring. Gosh, what does he want? Is there something on my face? "How drunk are you?" I ask

"Yeah," he answers.

" _Yeah_ ," I repeat. But you still won't give in. C'mon, I know you want to kiss me. I inch forward a little bit so he'll only notice our proximity, not me moving forward. I know you want to kiss me.

He looks at my lips and glares at me. "No," he mumbles.

"Wanna keep sketching?" I ask. Craig nods. "Take your boxers off." Craig stares at me for a long time. His hands move to the waistband of his underwear. He loops his fingers underneath the elastic. "Jesus Christ, Craig." He blinks at me as if to say he doesn't know what I'm talking about even though it's quite clear he's doing this on purpose. I could cry. Craig slowly slips his boxers off his hip. I watch him expose more skin. There's a distinct tan line going across his waist. His skin looks too good. It's dotted randomly with freckles. Some of them are dark and some are very faint. I want to bruise him everywhere. But _I don't want to lose_. "Slower," I encourage him. Craig's breath hits my forehead slower and heavier than before. I think I've got him. Craig's hands lower his garment just a little more. _Almost there_. I help Craig get his last article of clothing off completely.

"Make yourself comfortable," I tell him, picking my sketchbook and pencil back up. Craig does this; leaning back and giving me those stupid bedroom eyes. I'm about to throw in the towel, if only because Craig is semi-erect and I think that means he lost. But, if _he_ thinks it doesn't and I kiss him and _he_ thinks that _I_ lost... well, then I think I may be willing to take that L.

But not before I finish sketching nude Craig because I think he only said yes because he's drunk.

I can't even complete the sketch before Craig's completely hard and it causes a chain reaction, dammit. I'm gonna make him kiss me whether he likes it or not. I think he likes that I'm looking at him- naked, I mean. I think it turns him on a lot. That's also why I think he likes doing dirty things in showers too. Craig just likes being naked. At least that's how I see it. And if that's true then I'm not even mad because I like Craig being naked too.

My goal is to get Craig to kiss me, _at least_. Now, how am I gonna go about this?

I openly stare at the niorette's hard-on. Craig seems only more turned on by this, as I expected him to. His eyes get lower and almost dangerous- in a sexy way. His hair hoods over his eyes so that the blue is peeking out between the strands of black. It doesn't falter their piercing stare.

I put my sketchbook down. Craig watches me seemingly interested. "You got pretty hard by yourself."

"You're one to talk." Craig eyes the bulge my boxer-briefs are currently housing. I crawl over his body.

"Plus," he starts, seeming uncharacteristically unsure. "I- I think I'm, um," he says. "And you looked really good today in your uniform. Mature or some shit."

"Is that what you were thinking?" I watch his face, waiting for his answer. He seems to have more expressions than usual. It'd be perfect to draw, just to document that it _can_ happen but I'm really too busy. Craig simply shrugs. "Because I was thinking about kissing you."

"I know," he replies.

"I almost did."

"Mm…" he hums, eyes closing.

"We could now," I say. "Since, no one's here. We could do whatever we want and be as loud as we fucking want."

Craig takes a deep breath. I'm not sure why. I guess what I said had some risqué undertones to it. It seemed to like something from that. "Then why don't you do it?" he asks.

"Why don't you," I counter.

He smiles, eyes opening again. They're challenging. "I might," he admits. "If…" he trails off, glancing to the side.

" _If_?" I whisper, lips inches from his.

"You say fuck again."

I smirk, leaning back a little bit to look him in the eyes. "You like it when I swear?"

He blushes, "It's a good look on you." Craig leans up and licks my bottom lip. "So say fuck again and I might kiss you."

I can't stop smirking. Drunk Craig is the fucking best Craig. Fuck Car Craig, fuck Roof Craig, fuck Party Craig- Drunk Craig, by far, the best Craig to date. I'm so happy that I get to be however sober I am for this.

I lean next to Craig's ear and whisper, "I love seeing you naked like this. You're so fucking sexy."

Craig grabs my face and turns it towards his to kiss me hard. Oh, my God! That was at least an hour! I've wanted to kiss him all day and the one on the couch hardly counts 'cause I fucking had sperm on my tongue. This time, Craig's hammered and wasted and he's asking me to do something that turns him on! Craig has turn-ons! Like actually ones and all we needed to do was get him drunk to figure them out.

I press our erections together slowly but Craig bucks his hips grinding us together. We both moan loudly, breaking the kiss. I've been hard for a while so even though I wanna hold back I can't. Using my hands for leverage I roll my hips again, causing friction between us. "Tweek," Craig pants, eyes shut tight. His back arches pressing us together again, almost needy.

"Shit. Fuck this." I sit up, toss my shirt off into the wall somewhere, and reach around the floor for my jeans to grab the condom and packet of lube I was smart enough to store in the pocket.

"You're amazing. I don't care what anyone says," Craig says upon seeing what I was reaching for. His words make my heart warm and my stomach flip. I know he's just talking drunk but Jesus, does he have to be so sentimental?

"Tweek," he says. I hum an acknowledgement. Craig's eyes lower. I've gotten good enough at reading Craig's eyes to know this look. I know what he wants but can I get him to beg for it? He's pretty intoxicated so I'm gonna say I could. Maybe even fairly easily.

Craig looks like all he can think about is this and he doesn't remember the world but he knows his dick is hard and I'm here with him and willing to aid his problem. He's so very vulnerable. It's almost hard not to take advantage of him.

I crawl back over his body slick with sweat. I sweep his bangs back to admire his wonderful features. I kiss his temple, his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth. "You have to tell me what you want," I say, grasping his erecting gently, slowly moving my hand on him. He makes a choked noise and squirms. I run my thumb over the tip he whines. "Tell me what you want me to do," I repeat softly, dragging my lips over his skin to his neck. Craig just breathes heavily. I start to suck at his skin as my hand caresses his shaft.

"Tweek," he breathes.

"Yeah," I trail kisses down his throat.

" _Tweek_ ," he repeats with a little more urgency. I only hum in response this time. I bite his collar. "Tweek, _please_ ," he cries. I hum again. I mean, I honestly don't know what he wants so communication would be so helpful. But I guess, even drunk, Craig's really shy about this kind of stuff. I'm sure he'll be more open the more comfortable he gets with it though and I'm stubborn too so that won't take long I think.

I decide to help him out a bit. I sit up because I'd need both hands for this. While stroking Craig's length I let my other hand fall lower and slip between his cheeks. He sighs heavily. "Is this what you want?" I whisper. He pants and bucks into my hand. Yes, Craig, come undone before me. It's okay. I can only like you more, I promise.

I have to stop but only because I need lube to continue. I warm it between my hands before presuming my position of one hand on his shaft and the other teasing his entrance with light strokes.

"You fucking suck, Tweek," says Craig. "I hate you. You suck. You fucking piece of shit."

"Wow," I say. "Horny much?"

"A lot." Craig corrects. I prod my finger in Craig slowly until it's as deep as I can get it before retracting it just as slowly. Craig's eyes are starting to tear up at the corners. It only adds to his vulnerability. I add my second finger and pick up speed a little bit. I like being over Craig, able to watch his reactions the whole time, but, I do wonder what his back would look like beneath me, drenched in sweat, and arched to perfection.

When I push in particularly deep and hit his prostate he lets out a moan and arches his back. I bring my fingers back before sending them straight into it again. Craig squirms and struggles under me, he reaches for my hands until he finally grabs it, stopping me. I look up at him.

He struggles for his breath before stammering, "T- Too much..."

I blink at him for a minute. I process his words with my fingers still inside him. "Then tell me how it feels best," I tell him simply. "It's only as awkward as you make it." And I won't point out how my fingers are already in his ass so how bad could it get?

Craig sighs, "When you press against it, it's too much," he says. "But when you just brush like against it, that feels really good," he flushes. It's probably a mixture of being embarrassed, drunk, and turned on.

"Interesting..." I note. "What about this?" I question, withdrawing my fingers somewhat before curving them and brushing the tips against the walls in Craig.

He shifts under me and makes a small noise. "That was nice," he comments.

"Not too much?"

He shakes his head, "It's perfect." I wanna say something stupid about Craig being perfect but I know he wouldn't like that plus Craig should know by now that I think he's perfect and there's only like three things in the world that he could do to make me think otherwise.

But, Craig's drunk so he's different right now. So I tell him that he's perfect anyways. I whisper it right into his shoulder blade as I slide a third finger into him, trying to get it just the way he likes. What catches me off guard is when Craig replies with, "So are you."

My heart skips and suddenly there's a lump in throat. Why would he say that to me? I'm not a bad person but perfect I'm anything but. Is he just trying to be nice because I said it? He doesn't have to do that. "I don't think I'm perfect," I say.

"Well, I do," he retorts. "So shut up."

I blush. And dammit, I blush hard! Stupid Craig with his stupid sentimental words while we're doing the intimate. Fuck. "Stop saying stupid stuff," I mumble, stroking him faster. Craig can't reply and instead replies with a strangled moan noise. "You know, no one's home. You don't have to do that."

"Shut the fuck up. It's still embarrassing."

"I think it's nice background noise. Plus, it's nice to know what making you feel good sounds like."

"Tweek," Craig says.

"Yeah," I answer absentmindedly.

"Can you..." he pants, "Do it already?"

"Put it in?" I ask with a smirk. I'd be mean and wait until he actually asked me explicitly what he wants me to do but I'm feeling generous- No, that's not it. This whole time I've been focusing on making Craig feeling good, I could use some pleasure myself.

"God," Craig's head drops back. "Yes."

I hum in consideration, retrieving my fingers and sitting back on my knees. Yeah," I say. "I could... But-"

"But? Craig asks.

"I don't want to do it like this."

"What are you talking about?"

I'd love to grab Craig throw him over onto his stomach but he doesn't like it when I throw him around so I just tell him, "I wanna do it in a different position."

"Okay..." He says slowly. "Like what."

"Just... you on your stomach, I guess..."

"It's only as awkward as you make it," he mocks. Craig moves to sit up and I allow his maneuver. "This is, uhm," Craig starts. "Really... provocative," he finishes as he settles onto his front.

"Yeah," I say, grabbing his hips. "I guess."

He's right. It's extremely provocative. I can't stop staring at the curve of his back or his ass. I feel like I need to pray because life is too good which means something bad will probably happen soon but who cares about that when right now I'm the luckiest guy alive?

I grab the condom and rip through the plastic way too fast, struggling to get my boxers off and the condom on me just as quick. Once it's on, I douse myself with lube, and give myself a few self-appreciating pumps for good luck. I remanence on the last time I was inside Craig and what a blissful experience it was. I pull Craig's hips a little higher, arching his back, and position myself behind him. I place my head at his entrance and brace for impact.

It's as beautiful as I predicted- Craig's back, I mean. I'll probably paint it later. Definitely one for the books.

This is my favorite position, I decide right then as I push into Craig. He makes some muffled noises into the pillow, gripping the bedsheets. I groan openly into the air.

"Jesus, fuck, you feel so good, Craig." He responds with some loud swearing into the pillow. I imagine he's in a lot of pain. He won't be for long though. When I'm finally all the way in I give Craig a minute to adjust, waiting for his okay to move again. He's still swearing. I wonder if we should've waited a few days before doing this again right after his first time... He'll adjust. And it's not like Craig didn't basically beg me to. That's over exaggerated. I know.

"You okay?" I pat his ass cheek. He mumbles into the pillow. "We can stop," I frown. I desperately don't want to though. I'd really like to keep going actually. But I would.

"No," is the only audible thing Craig's said in the past five minutes. "Just- fuck- give me a second." I don't think Craig understands how agonizing this is. "Go."

I sigh heavily before pulling out of Craig a little bit to dive back into him harder than before. It's difficult to find his good spot in this position but well worth it plus I'm confident I'll get it eventually. We grunt together. I reach around Craig and wrap my hand around his throbbing member.

All of Craig's sounds are muffled by his pillow but it's fine. I'm loud enough for the both of us. I start slow so Craig can adjust and also so I can experiment with finding his sweet spot. But, with this whole situation I don't think either of us were built to last long and it's gradually becoming impossible for me to hold back.

"Shit," I breathe. I don't want to hurt him but my judgement… is impaired. I drive into him a little faster and harder. Craig becomes louder with this which is probably from the pain or the pleasure and it sucks that he doesn't say anything because I can't tell which it is. It really only sucks for Craig though because his noise are provoking me further. His hands are gripping the sheets so tightly. I moan.

I must've hit his prostate (can I get some kind of prize for the sorcery I'm capable of conducting?) because Craig cries out loudly and comes. His back arches off the mattress but his face buries itself in the pillow. It's amazing and it's enough to help me come after a few more thrusts.

I pull out, toss the condom somewhere, and die next to Craig. My toes feel tingly and groin is throbbing from the stimulation. I can't breathe and it's fucking awesome. I can't even think and that's amazing. "I think I died," I say just to make sure I didn't.

Craig makes a noise and mumbles, "I can't feel my elbow." He then laughs really hard at himself and it's almost endearing. He flips onto his side to latch onto me. He's wet. I'm wet too. We need showers. A shower…

His leg snags mine and his face nudges against my neck and shoulder. "You're really nice, Tweek," Craig says. He starts mumble incoherently into my skin. I catch a few things here and there. I'd be sleeping if he weren't doing this. I turn my face towards his to watch him but his eyes are closed.

"You always smell like coffee and drugs."

"Your hair is so soft and nice."

"You're so tall."

"You make good tea."

"You're really tall."

"I like your tongue."

"You make my stomach feel floaty."

"And you're tall."

"And you're eyebrows are nice."

"You draw pretty pictures, Tweek."

"You're weird but you don't care and I don't care but I do care but you actually don't."

"You make me feel sure."

"You bring me weed." He chuckles after this. "I've been talking for so long that my voice sounds funny."

"You're voice always sounds funny," I tell him.

His brow furrows. "Nuh, uh."

"Yeah," I say.

"What a dick thing to say."

I laugh and even though Craig's hurt or pretending to be, he laughs ruining the façade. "I like your laugh."

"I like your laugh," I retort.

"I like your dick," Craig says.

I laugh again. "Okay, Craig, go to sleep."

"Fuck you. Don't. Tell me. What to do." Even though he says this Craig stops talking for a while. It's apparent he's gone when his breathing evens to that stupid death sleep he does. I wonder if all that he was saying was true… He's drunk so it's possible that I'll never know.

What I do know is that…

I turn my head away from Craig and run my hand down my face.

Oh, man, this shit's getting _deep_.

* * *

 _Someone else write this story. I'm done. I quit ugh. I quit._

 _Also, please tell me this is not the second chapter track with the name 'so high'. wth am i doing. someone help._


	23. The Notion of Promotion?

**Chapter Track: Around Town by The Kooks**

When I open my eyes Token's drawing back the curtains of the window. Light seeps into the room and I squint, unpleased by his gesture. He's lecturing about something my ears aren't fully prepared to process. I realize then that Craig and I are still quite naked, then soon after that, that Craig still has to go to church today and he's probably already late. Though, it is worth mentioning that we hardly sleep so, this is in a way a good thing.

Craig groans and rolls into my side, clenching to me. This makes me laugh a little bit. So the cuteness continues. "You're such a fucking dumbass," Token scolds. "You trash this place and you're late. C'mon, Craig, wake up!"

"Ugh," Craig moans.

There's a sudden laugh from the door. My head whips around to find Clyde, leaning against the doorframe. "Nice," he winks at me.

"I'll wake him up, Toke. You can go…"

Token throws his hands in the air, shaking his head. "I don't care anymore." He walks out.

"I hope you used protection!" Clyde calls as the dark skinned boy shuts the door on him.

I roll my eyes and sit up. Craig whines from my chest. "You're late," I tell him.

"Why can't everyone just shut the shit up for like, two goddamn minutes?" he growls.

"Hung over?"

"What _the_ _fuck_ do you think?"

"Hung over," I decide. "Want tea?" Craig stills. I glance at him. "Are you… okay?"

"I'm gonna vomit," he comments. Craig quickly tosses the covers off himself and rushes out of the room. I hear Clyde start to laugh in the hallway, probably because Craig is still naked and I get up to comfort him and clothe him. I'm not happy about Clyde seeing however much of Craig naked as he has. I'm not even sure what he saw but I'm not happy about it. I pull on my boxers and grab Craig's.

Clyde's standing by the bathroom door, watching whatever show Craig's putting on. I can hear him retching and Clyde's simply laughing. I shove him out of the way with my shoulder, covering his eyes with my hand. "I got it, man."

He just laughs some more. "Oh, I'm sure you do," he agrees, walking off.

I shut the door behind me and set his drawers on the counter. I kneel next to Craig and pat his back. It seems like something you're supposed to do when someone's sick and throwing up into a toilet. I'm not sure if it's really just a movie thing and Craig doesn't say anything so I just continue. I smooth out his hair and rub his shoulder until he stops. He sits for a while just with his face in the toilet. "Are you gonna be okay?" I wonder. "How long is… _church_?"

"I'm gonna die," he tells me. "Augh, _fuck_." He sits up a little bit. I stand and hand him his boxers. "Thanks," he says. "But I need a shower." I nod. "And it's only like, an hour."

"Do you _have_ to go?"

Craig pauses. He shifts. "I want to," he says, sitting up. I watch him stand and step into the shower. He shuts the curtain. Is that a nice way of him asking me to leave? The way he said that was weird… maybe? Would he have not wanted me to watch even if I hadn't said that? God, he's so… augh.

I really need to take a shower too but I'll wait until Craig leaves because I'm a good not-boyfriend. I slip into some sweatpants I found and head to the kitchen to make Craig's tea. Something with high caffeine to wake him up and… toast to help his stomach hopefully.

Clyde's already in the kitchen, of course, brewing coffee. He's still in a version of his suit. It's been watered down to a button up and dress pants, his tie hanging out of his pocket and his hair a mess. "You really know how to cheer a guy up, huh?" Clyde snickers when I enter.

I glare at him and flick him off. Is he not hung over as well? Shouldn't he be? Wow, lame dance. If he is, then damn him for being one of those pricks that barely gets hung over. Like, those douche bags that just get a slight headache or some shit. Like, _really_ fuck those guys. Clyde looks like one of those fuckers. "Did you two talk?"

"We talk all the time," I tell him.

"Oh, yeah?" he snorts. "Settle down, man. I'm not starting a fight. I'm really curious."

"Craig seems fine, Clyde," I say. "Maybe you should just drop it."

Clyde's smile dwindles and his eyes narrow. "You really think you know something." He laughs, shaking his head. "You and Craig have been together- what? Five fucking minutes?"

"Back off," I shrug him off, grabbing a kettle from the cabinet. I don't feel like dealing with this shit right now.

"Before you came, none of this shit was a problem," he says. "You know that. I know you do. He'd be so much better off without you and you know that too. But, it's too late for that because he really likes you, Tweek. So, you better make sure this shit works out. With his parents, with the school, and _with him_."

"Why would you say that?" I snap. "What are you trying to fucking accomplish? You wanna threaten me or something? Just fucking fight me then. If this is over Craig, just say that. I'm tired of trying to read between the lines!"

"It's not like that," Clyde says, with less energy. "Don't be dense. You should be over that by now, man. C'mon."

"You obsess over him enough."

"That's not _why_ though."

Clyde pours himself a cup of coffee and I place the kettle on the burner and wait. It's quiet. He seems to be thinking. I'm trying not to think because I have too much on my mind and it's starting to weigh me down and I don't know what I'm supposed to do but I have to be fine… for Craig. I said that. And I will be.

"What did he do?" I ask finally. "What did he do to make you so paranoid about him?"

"I'm not paranoid," Clyde says.

"What did he do?" I repeat.

Clyde stares at his mug. "He…"

"Is it done?"

I jump and glance back to see Craig enter, followed by Token. "N- Not yet." My eyes linger on him. His hair's still wet and his face tinted pink. He's in dressy trousers with a belt but still lacks a shirt.

"Hurry up. I can still make it."

"Okay."

"Jesus, what's wrong with you. What were you two talking about?"

"You," Clyde tells him flat. Craig flicks him off and rolls his eyes. "Token knew you were gonna oversleep."

"I barely overslept so fuck off."

"It's a good thing we came back when we did, isn't it, Toke?"

Token's dropped into a seat at the dining table with his head down. He moans. Clyde acts like he understands this as a proper answer. He sets a cup of coffee in front of Token. "Yeah, man, I feel you."

"Did you and Tweek make sweet love all night long?" Clyde teases with kissy faces and humping the air a few times.

"I don't remember," Craig admits.

"You're like a bajillion times cuter when you're drunk, Craig," I tell him. "Funny too."

"Cool," Craig says. "Thanks." He pauses. "What did I say?"

"Apparently you really like my height, I guess." Craig groans and runs his hand down his face. I don't know why that'd be something he didn't want me to know. Maybe he's just embarrassed. Maybe he secretly likes when I hold things over him to where he can't reach. "That I smell like coffee, something about my hair, and something about my art." I place his tea in front of him and sit down next to him.

"That's great," he mumbles.

"It was sweet."

"Oh, yeah," says Clyde, taking the last seat at the table. "His _art_."

"Why do you say it like that? He's good." When Craig says this I blush a little from the compliment but then I soon realize where this conversations going.

"He has like, a million sketches of you Craig," Clyde tells the niorette. Ruthless. He's a ruthless bastard. "One time I bumped into him in the hall and they all fell out of his bag. A million."

"Yeah, I know."

My head snaps towards Craig. "What'd you mean, ' _you know_ '?" I ask him. "How do you _know_? You've never seen them."

He shrugs. "Some things that happened," he explains. "I just assumed."

"That's cute," Token grumbles.

"It lives!" Clyde exclaims. Token flicks him off.

"I wanna see them," says Craig.

I laugh. "You'll never see them," I promise him. "You weren't even supposed to know."

Craig scoffs, "What kind of shit is that? Clyde can see them but I can't? They're _of_ _me_!"

"Clyde only saw them because he can't watch where he's going."

"Fuck you," Clyde says.

"I don't care. He did, so I should be able to too."

"No," I decide.

"That's bullshit."

"How?"

Craig blinks at me, "Because it is." I roll my eyes at his childish justification. His phone buzzes. Craig checks it and sighs. "My parents are coming down the street."

Clyde and Token tell Craig to have fun and I walk him to the front door. While he's pulling on his coat I kiss the side of his head, "Hope you figure things out."

He blushes. "Thanks," he mumbles. I watch him pull his hat on. He reaches for the door but hesitates and then turns to me. "What were you and Clyde talking about before we walked in earlier?"

"Uh."

He sighs. He doesn't look particularly upset or angry but he says, "Stop prying. I don't want you know so can you just let it go? I don't want to have to worry about you and Clyde conspiring against me on top of everything else and I really don't want you to turn into him."

"I don't understand why it's such a big secret. I tell you things."

"I don't understand why it's such a big deal that you know it."

"I don't know. Because it's about you. Because it's the reason Clyde hates me? Because it seems to have something to do with me but no one wants me to know what it is." Craig stares at the ground silently. Maybe I should just let it go… What's it worth?

There's a car horn outside. Craig glances up. "What if I promise to tell you when I'm ready?"

My brows furrow. "Okay?"

"I gotta go."

"See you later?"

"Yeah," Craig says, pulling the door open and leaving. I do not think Craig will ever be ready to tell me.

* * *

"Hey!"

"Hey, Kenny," I write out my name in coffee grounds that I've spilled on the counter.

"How are things?" The blonde asks, leaning forward on the counter.

"I'm… not entirely sure," I half shrug. "Fine, I guess."

"Mm," he hums. "Any particular reason? Let me guess," he says, pointing his finger at me. "It has something to do with Craig."

"Wow, you really are psychic," I roll my eyes.

"What happened now?" Kenny leans his face against his hand.

"I'm… not sure."

"What'd you mean you don't know?"

I slash through my name and the design I was working on and glare at the blonde. " _I_ _don't know_ , Kenny."

"I'm lost."

"Yeah, well, it's none of your business anyways," I tell him, sweeping the grounds off the counter with one hand and into the other.

"It might make you feel better to talk about it," he suggests.

"Your abilities must be rubbing off on me because I can already see that it won't make me feel better and, just to help you out, I can also see that I'm not gonna tell you so don't waste your breath."

"Boo," Kenny jeers. "Boo, Tweek's being a bitch today." I head to the trash to dump the contents of my hand. "He's not a God," Kenny tells me, placing his hands on the counter and leaning up onto them. "You shouldn't let him affect your mood so much."

"I just don't get him," I mumble, wiping the counter down to have something to do; to relieve some stress through cleaning. Kenny just watches me. I hesitate. "It seems like he really likes me… but, at the same time it feels like this could end at any second. I've never met someone more unstable than me."

Kenny laughs at this, "Who would've known?" he asks. "Dating Craig Tucker is turning out to be an emotional rollercoaster."

"The irony," I say, bitterly. "Were you planning on ordering something?"

"I'll take a drink if that's what you're offering," he says, winking at me.

"Mm." I narrow my eyes at him and grab a paper cup from the stack. I sigh while filling his cup with coffee. "What should I do, Kenny? He doesn't talk about stuff. I mean, I guess he kind of does? It's weird… I feel like I'm supposed to care but he really acts like he doesn't want me to."

Kenny's lips purse in thought. "I'd just keep an eye on him. When he's ready he'll talk to you or Clyde or someone and if he doesn't then I'm sure you'll know if you need to step in."

"Why would I need to step in?" I cap his cup and he takes it from me.

"I don't know… Doesn't Craig get depression or something?"

"How do _you_ know that?"

Kenny thinks, "Uhm, maybe Clyde told me when he was drunk once…" He shrugs. "Or something like that, maybe. Token?"

"Well, that's nice Kenny. Thanks for telling me, you jackass."

"Sweetie, watch your language," my mom says as she walks past us from the kitchen.

Kenny shrugs, "Didn't seem important. Isn't everyone depressed?"

"I don't think that's how it works," I tell him. "Sadness and depression are completely different."

"Yeah," he says. "I guess."

Yeah, well, I know they are. "Anyway," I say. "I just hope that today makes things better and not worse."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Just let all this shit blow over," Kenny says. "After break it probably will. And if it doesn't, I'll just fight Cartman or Kyle."

I snort, "Thanks, Ken."

"Oh, whoa," Kenny flashes his eyebrows, "Name upgrade? Relationship upgrade?"

"Sure," I tell him.

"Friendship upgrade," he cheers,

* * *

 _First of all, let me congratulate myself for reaching 100,000 words like what the shit is that? :D Secondly, I've been thinking more about this story, the one I'm working on, and one's I've left on hiatus and I'm thinking I'm gonna break this into a two part, but that of course requires planning and a lot of shit. So I'll let you know_ _…_ _but tell me what you think about it. Planning's been so hard lately D: so I'm sorry if things are_ _…_ _scattered? I guess. Anyway, review and junk, my lovelys._


	24. Page

**Chapter Track: Goner by Twenty One Pilots**

I've been painting again; nothing good, mostly Craig. My collection of him is getting out of hand. It might be that I'm sexually frustrated or that I'm just frustrated in general that sparked this episode of excessive Craig sketches. Ever since Sunday he hasn't responded to my texts and we haven't seen each other either. It's probably not that big of a deal. I mean, we were spending way too much time together. I know. But, still. It's making me uneasy.

Kenny has been keeping me company meanwhile, which hasn't been terrible just like it hasn't been exceedingly amazing. We get high, he makes me laugh, he has weirder music than I do (which fascinates me), and he listens to me lament about Craig in a way that seems like he actually cares and that's rare to find so I appreciate it. He never really talks about himself too personally which makes me wonder but only for a few minutes; I don't really care.

My parents think we're fucking because they're assholes and have actually been happy about it because they think it means I'm not with Craig anymore, those fucking assholes. The other day my mom gave me a fucking box of condoms, which I mean, I want them and I'm sure they'll come in handy but her intentions are all fucked and she's an asshole so there. Plus, she didn't get me any lube which is bullshit. But, I asked Kenny and he got me some so whatever.

I still haven't talked to Wendy but she hasn't tried to talk to me either. Clearly, our 'friendship' was as negligible as I had said it might be the whole time. That's fucking fine. I never really liked Wendy.

"That's really good, Tweek." Kenny tells me over my shoulder. It's too hot in the house because it's so cold outside and my parents are asshole, as I previously mentioned. Kenny and I are stoned, as per usual and he is shirtless… as usual.

"Thanks," I mumble, shading in my newest Craig and giving his face a little bit of dimension.

"You should show Craig some of these."

"Yeah," I laugh, " _Right_."

"I'm serious!" Kenny says. "I'd be so in love with you I'd give you a blowjob."

I scoff, "Shut up, Kenny."

"Tweek, you're overreacting. I think Craig's totally in love with you."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up, Kenny," I repeat.

"I think you worry too much."

"It's been like three weeks."

"It's been six days, Tweek."

"It's been a long time, Ken."

"Yeah, but he said he was fine and he'd talk to you later."

"But that's _all_ he said!"

Kenny waves me off, "It's fine, it's fine. But when you do see him, you should show him this." He points to the canvas. "It'll make him happy."

This makes me stop because I know Kenny is right and I don't think Craig is happy. "Fine," I say. "Maybe one or two."

"Didn't you say he already knows anyway? Clyde saw them too. Everyone knows, Tweek."

I sigh, "But there's so fucking many, Ken!" I toss sketches in the air and let them rain down like oversized, depressed confetti. "It's creepy…"

"You're an artist! You make art from what you think is beautiful, right? Nothing wrong with thinking Craig's beautiful. In fact, you should and he is."

I roll my eyes. "Don't make this sentimental and shit."

"I'm just being real."

It makes sense but it always did to me. I'm an artist so if I like someone, I might draw them a lot, but I've come to realize that everyone doesn't understand that and apparently drawing someone could come off as creepy more than flattering, which is baffling to me because if someone drew me, I'd be pretty damn flattered. "I'll ease into it."

Suddenly my phone starts to vibrate. I jump. I scramble for my phone. Kenny watches amused. I'm glad he's finding enjoyment from my stress. It's Craig. I knew it was Craig because no one ever calls me, not even my parents.

I'm about to slam my thumb on the answer but I hesitate. Why would Craig call me? He's never called me before. He hardly texts so I don't peg him as a phone call kind of guy. I peg him as a, 'don't end up talking over the phone by any means necessary' kind of guy. What if it's serous? Serious, how? Break up? Parents found out? Accident and someone's found his phone and called me to tell me about it?

"It's the green one," Kenny graciously reminds me. "You have to slide it across the screen, I think."

"B- b- but what if it's bad news?"

Kenny shrugs, "You'd have to answer to find out then."

My mind runs. It runs so fast it reaches a cliff with no time to stop and now it's tumbled over the edge, plummeting towards the earth. I answer and press the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

" _Hey. Come over_."

I blink, fear draining from my body. "Right now?"

" _Yeah_."

"Token's?"

" _No_ ," Craig says. " _My place_."

"But-"

" _I'm home alone_."

"Oh..." I say. "Alright."

" _See you?_ "

"Yeah," I say. "Okay." The line goes dead.

I stand. "What'd he want?" Kenny asks. I grab a back pack and shove my sketchbook and pencils in it. "Oh," says Kenny. "I see." I examine my basically shrine to Craig with all of his faces littering the floor. I sigh and stoop to grab a few. "Take this one. It's good," Kenny hands me the one I was working on. I roll my eyes and snatch it from him.

I pull on my mom's boots, a jacket, and a beanie, throwing the bag over my shoulder. "Ah, ah, ah," Kenny stops me. "Can't forget these," he hands me the previously mentioned box of condoms and lube.

I'm about to protest but instead I just thank the blonde, shoving the items in the front pocket of my bag. If it were to happen then it'd be better to be prepared.

"This could still be a bad thing," I tell him.

"Yeah," he says. "But you could say that about everything in life."

"Maybe he wants to break up with me in person."

"Or maybe he's finally ready to suck your dick."

I scoff, "Shut up, Kenny." We laugh all the way down the stairs.

We pass my parents without a word. "You're walking all the way to Toke's in this weather? You're crazy."

"Fuck off. I'm walking to Craig's place. His parents are gone or some shit."

"Oh," Kenny nods knowingly. "I see."

I roll my eyes. "I doubt any thing's gonna happen. Craig's in a weird place."

"At least he's willing to talk to you now."

"Or break up with me."

"I doubt it, Tweek. I don't know what's up but the last thing I see Craig doing is breaking up with you."

"Have you talked to Clyde at all?" I ask.

Kenny.

He shrugs, "Sorry."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter now, I guess."

He slaps my shoulder. "Well, I'll see you later." I nod. "Merry Christmas, Tweek."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Ken."

-x-

I stand outside Craig's house until I can't feel my fingers anymore. Every time I muster the courage to knock it sends me three steps back. Now I'm ankle deep in snow, feeling pretty shitty and numb and wondering why the fuck there's not coffee in my hand. I bet Craig has coffee. The door opens and I jump. Craig stares at me. He's in some blatant pajamas: a graphic T-shirt and some flannel bottoms. He's not wearing his hat and his hair is shorter than it's ever been since we started... seeing each other.

He waves at me with no facial expression which is oddly comforting. Even though his face is deadpanned, I can tell he's not... angry or upset. I can tell he probably is not going to break up with me. Does that make sense? I feel like it makes sense that it doesn't make sense. I walk through the snow on his lawn to his porch and greet him with a kiss to his cheek. "How are you?"

"Come inside. It's cold."

I nod and follow him behind the door. I look around Craig's living room. It's exactly the same as it was the first time I saw it which is weird to me. Not a thing has been moved even slightly. No newspapers or magazines are on the table. No dishes are in the sink. No trash is anywhere in sight. It smells like nuclear family and its suffocating.

Craig shuts the door and locks it. It's awkward and quiet because it's been a while since we've last talked and I don't know if it's okay to bring that up. I don't know if I can talk about what happened at church or if everything's okay with his parents. I don't know if I can talk about Clyde and Token or even why he hasn't texted me back. Am I supposed to forget it ever happened? Is it supposed to be okay because Craig finally called me back? Am I reading too much into this? Am I even really upset about it? Should I be?

"How's everything been?" Is that okay? And then suddenly it's funny because I realize Craig told me I make him feel sure, but right now, Craig is making me so unsure.

Craig shrugs, "It's been better. It's been worse."

"I guess- I just mean- uh- you know, I texted you."

"Yeah," Craig says. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Well, what happened?" He shrugs again. And I let it go even though I want to pry. I want to shake him until he tells me everything because it's keeping me up at night (I don't sleep anyways though so I digress). "Why did you call me?"

"Because I wanted to see you," he says simply. Craig tells me as if it were obvious. I feel dumb for asking.

"But _why_?" I press.

"Do I need a reason?" He counters.

Now I'm beginning to feel angry. It's like little needles being pressed into my tongue. But I know he doesn't mean it. But I'm still mad. I wanna explode. I wanna scream at him that I would always answer his texts and I would always answer his calls and if I didn't then I would have a damn good reason and I'm sure he does but why won't he tell me? Why won't he trust me? Why am I even here then?

Craig sits on the couch and starts clicking through channels so I sit next to him and we're quiet and it's so weird.

The longer we sit the angrier I get and the angrier I get the easier it is for me to ask what I want. "How was church?"

Craig blinks without looking at me. "It was okay. I fell asleep. My parents were bearable. My sister was a brat and we got food after."

"Do you feel better?"

"About what?"

"God? I don't know. Your parents?"

Craig makes a face. "Could be better. Could be worse," he repeats.

"What does that mean? Are you still Christian?"

"I haven't decided," he says.

"What about Clyde and Toke? How are they?"

"I don't know. Ask them."

"I'm asking you," I snip.

"Well, I don't fucking know."

"What _do_ you know that you're actually willing to tell me? Did you just invite me over to sit and watch TV? Or make out? Or- or have sex?"

"I invited you over to be with you. What the fuck is your problem?"

"Me? What is _your_ problem?"

"I don't fucking have one!" Craig snaps. "You came in here interrogating and mad and shit."

"I didn't," I argue. "I came in here worried about you and us- fuck! And you- you just dodge and deflect! All it is, is secrets and guessing and fucking worrying. How hard is it to say what you mean? To tell the fucking truth and talk about how you feel?"

Craig scoffs, standing. "Harder than you'd think, asshole."

I open my mouth to respond with something mean and hurtful but we just stare at each other, fuming. A minute passes and Craig presses his lips together and turns away. I want to say sorry but I don't want to say it first.

"Hey," I say, following him.

"What."

I stand at the bottom of the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"To feed my pigs."

"Are you mad?" I call.

Craig disappears down the hall and I hear his door open. "No." I barely make out.

I start a pot of coffee and wait for Craig to return. I think maybe I should've followed and I also think it's better I didn't.

When Craig comes back down, I'm sitting at the bar drinking my coffee. I left enough for him, doubting he'd want it anyways. I was right.

He sits next to me and messes with his hands. I'm about to say something but I'm glad I didn't because Craig speaks. "They knew, Tweek."

My eyes widen, "About us or about you?"

"No," Craig chuckles. "About the, 'rumor'. They heard from someone's parents probably."

"Craig, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Craig says. "They believed it was a rumor and Ruby didn't say anything."

"Oh," I say. "That's good."

"No."

"No?" I repeat. "How is that not good? That's great!"

"The whole time Ruby was giving me this look and I knew she wouldn't tell. She wanted me to. It was the perfect time. I had the opportunity and I didn't take it. It was like everyone stopped talking at the same time and that was my moment. I felt it. But I didn't- I- I couldn't."

"Craig," I say. "You can't just _come out_. You have to be ready. If you did, you'd feel even shittier. Trust me," I tell him. "This might not be what you wanted to hear," I say. "And I'm sorry but that's just how it is to be gay- or whatever you are." Craig doesn't say anything. "At least to be a gay teenager... who isn't out."

"But _you're_ not out," Craig points out. "How come it's different?"

"My parents know," I say. "And they don't care. It's not their religion and shit. And, no offense or anything but I've accepted myself. It doesn't matter to me if the school knows or not. I'd prefer them not to but I'm also pretty sure they all just know. Once you accept it, it just becomes who you are," I tell him. "But if you don't, which is fine by the way. It's this huge secret and if someone finds out that you didn't mean to, it's this gross feeling like they know something they shouldn't."

"They didn't," Craig assures me. "Know you were gay," he clarifies. "At least, not before _that_ happened." 'That,' is probably Red, Annie, and Wendy's fat fucking mouths.

"I find that hard to believe. When you 'found out' you didn't seem surprised. You acted like you knew."

"After we started talking, I just knew. But it's weird how perspective changes once you know someone."

"Agreed," I say. Craig grows quiet. "What're you thinking?"

"What if I never accept myself?" I'm not gonna say it but I feel like that's a dumb question because how could you not? If that's who you are, eventually you stop crying over spilled milk, if that's what you consider it.

Instead I say, "I think," and I think really carefully about my words because I think I know how important they are. "If you really do move out of South Park then you'll realize that you're not the only gay person and it's not this crazy abnormal thing. It's literally not a thing at all. It's only a big deal because your parents are part of the few that make it a big deal." I shrug. "I just think maybe you have a hard time accepting it because you think it's this horrible, alien thing only you go through and it's not even a negative thing."

Craig doesn't say anything. He runs his hand through his hair, pretty ineffectively due to it's new length. "I know," he says. "I know," he repeats more surely. It somehow has the opposite effect and I believe Craig is more insecure than ever.

Craig never apologizes but maybe I'm being too sensitive.

* * *

 _Happy Holidays, Americans *thumbs up_


	25. Several Hot Heads

**Chapter Track: Calling Me by Aquilo**

Simply put, things are weird. Everything is weird. My parents are weird. They're being nice to me again because of Kenny kissing their ass and them thinking he's my boyfriend. It's weirder that I don't feel inclined to correct them. Kenny's weird, which isn't always bad but it's not always good either. Who takes the cake? And you may have guessed it, honestly. It's Craig. He's so solemn and to himself. I think it's best to just leave him alone but how long is this going to last? I don't want him to feel this way forever. What could I do? It's hard! Anything I say will just make him mad. I should just leave him alone.

Token and Clyde were gonna have a Christmas party but they canceled it. They gave such a bullshit excuse too. Something about Token's parents and Clyde has family coming. I know it had something to do with Craig. My theory is that he has to be with his family on Christmas which means he has to be there by Christmas eve so he wouldn't be able to go to the party which would make Clyde and Token enjoy it less… but that doesn't really make sense when I think about it. They could have just moved the party closer. Plus, Craig doesn't even like parties.

I step into Token's house without knocking.

Instead, Token said he just wanted us. He said we could make a fire, watch Christmas movies and eat food. That sounded nice and somehow more special than a party.

Wendy's weird. She came to my house the other day which kind of pissed me off because my mom answered the door and I don't like it when she opens the door for my friends but, then again, Wendy isn't really my friend. She was apologizing again but I just told her I knew she was sorry but what she did sucked and it didn't just affect me. She should be apologizing to Craig. She should beg for his forgiveness, even though she'd never get it. She might get mine but, I don't know, it's weird. Part of me feels like I should forgive Wendy but a bigger part of me just doesn't _want_ to. And what's the point anyways? We were never actually friends.

I start the coffee machine. It gurgles to life and I wait for the ' _Ready_ ' screen.

Somehow, everything's weird. Nothing feels right anymore and I wish break would just be over so I could go back to school and have something to do. I need a routine and I need to feel normal again. I feel like break is never going to end. It feels like a sad Christmas this year. And the cold is really bothering my mood.

I grab a mug and make myself a cup of coffee. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what I want either, I think. Everything's happening too fast. Someone's gonna get hurt.

I sip my coffee way too quickly and burn the shit out of my mouth. I don't even care though. I get an ice cube to suck on. I'm stalling. I don't even know why I came here. I grab another mug and take the coffee out of the machine.

What if it's a bad day for Craig and we argue again? We argue so much. Craig doesn't know what he wants either and that's not a good combination. I place a teabag in the mug and press the button and wait for the color of the water to change to brown. I don't think I should have come. What if he didn't want me to?

I take both mugs and walk over to the stairs.

I hadn't heard a noise until I reached the bottom of the stairs. There was indistinct yelling coming from Token's room and I didn't know whether to run towards it or away but I don't really have a choice here. I carefully ascend the stairs with my mugs, focusing on not spilling anything.

I wait right outside the door and listen.

"Yeah because Craig gets to just do whatever the hell he wants!"

"Clyde, shut the fuck up."

"You do," Clyde says. "You treat everyone like shit so we can be unhappy like you."

"Or maybe I treat you like shit because you're a fucking dick!"

"This shits been going on for two goddamn months. How long can someone mope around."

"Because this is _really_ helping," Token interjects.

"Everyone's so worried about Craig. How's Craig feeling today? I'm supposed to base what I say or do on whether or not it'll piss off Craig? I'm fucking sick of it, dude!"

"I'm _so_ sorry, Clyde. If I bother you so much then why don't you just fucking leave?"

Clyde laughs, "Don't play the fucking victim."

I realize I have no free hands to open the door which makes me briefly think I should just leave instead, I mean this is my last chance. But I decided not to. Or at least, I didn't decided to before Craig swung open Token's door.

He stared at me for a moment before pushing past me and down the hall.

Now I'm staring at Clyde and Toke. They greet me only with their glances. Toke sighs and flops onto his bed and Clyde paces. I put the mugs down and don't know what to do with myself.

I should go after Craig.

But I don't know if I should.

I end up following after him but only because I thought why not and I'd rather be with him than Clyde and Token right now. I check the bathroom and he isn't there which is weird because I saw him go in there when he stormed past me. After checking the whole downstairs and the guest rooms I realize Craig must be hiding. After shooting him a text, checking outside, and the bathroom again, I realize he may be hiding from me too. I've never actually found Craig by myself. I only really know two of his hiding spots. Is he even still in the house?

I relay this information to Clyde and Token who are no help, let me tell you. Clyde says, "Good!" and Token gives me a half shrug. He tells me Craig always comes back and he somehow thinks I'm supposed to just be okay with that.

I keep looking for a while. I mean I don't have anything else to do. It's almost as if Craig isn't even in the house. He's not in any rooms or the basement or the bathrooms. I feel like I'm being tricked.

I find Craig after like, an hour because I was checking the guest room Craig and I stayed in for the third time and out of despair, toppled myself to the floor and just laid there. I listened to Clyde and Token talk. Clyde had said Craig was being a neurotic drama queen and Token said Clyde needs to cut Craig some slack.

I had heard a different sound. A weird one that almost sounded like someone walking on the ceiling. But knowing how impossible it'd be to get on the roof, I knew it must've been from the attic. I didn't even know Token had an attic.

I find the entrance by myself because I can guess Clyde and Token don't know about this hiding spot and I guess I don't want them to. I have to pull the stairs down from the ceiling. I've never seen one of these doors in real life before.

When I head up Craig says immediately, "Shut the door before they see you."

"How'd you know it was me?" I ask as I pull the door shut.

"Because they don't know how to find me. They don't try to," he says.

Token's attic is completely empty. There's a little circle window facing the lawn which somehow fills the room with enough light.

Craig is sitting under it with his legs crossed. "What the hell happened?"

"Clyde a fucking piece of shit. I hate him when he acts like this." Craig groans, grabbing the wall to stand.

"Let's go to my house."

Craig rolls his eyes, "What about your parents?"

I almost laugh. When have I ever cared about them? "They're working."

I see Craig wants to argue but he says, "Okay. Can you grab my stuff from Token's room? I don't want them to know I left."

"Yeah."

"I'm just gonna take his keys and we can drive there."

"Okay."

I head to Token's room and grab Craig's backpack. Clyde had asked me what I was doing and I told him I was bringing Craig his stuff. Clyde asked if I was leaving and I said no and I'd be right back. I was lying and I think they'll know after a few minutes. Whatever. I run down the stairs and out the front door. Craig's already pulled the car into the street so I rush through the snow with his bag and mine and get in the passenger before he drives off.

We don't really talk on the way to my house but it isn't weird. The only weird thing is that I don't think we're usually this quiet. When we get to my house we walk up to the door and I push it open. I don't know how my parents are able to leave without locking it. It gives me anxiety.

I almost ask Craig if he wants some tea but I'm a little ticked off about the tea and coffee I wasted at Token's so I don't. If he asks me, I will make him tea. We take our coats and shoes off.

I start the coffee machine. Craig sits on the couch and turns on the TV. Everything is so weird. I wanna just ask him, _Are we okay?_ But I don't know if that will make him mad or not. I make my coffee and Craig watches the news for a while.

I don't know how to bring up Clyde and Token and I don't know how to bring up his parents. I know he doesn't want to talk about it but, I know he should. He looks so comfortable right now though, just sitting on the couch. I mean, I can't see his face but he looks relaxed. I don't want to overwhelm him. He's probably already stressed out. Shouldn't I be the one person he can go to or be with without any of the bullshit? I could be.

We both know. We know our parents suck and we know some kids know now and we know Clyde's an asshole… We know this isn't gonna work out, but we're still pretending that it will so who cares anyways?

I pick my mug up without any cream or sugar and start drinking. It's foul. I offer Craig a sip when I sit down next to him, he takes it but makes a disgusted face afterwards. "How do you drink that shit?"

"I love it," I tell him. "I don't know how anyone could not like coffee."

Craig thinks. He says, "The only way I like coffee is with a lot of cream and sugar or like, when we kiss."

"When we kiss?"

"You always taste like coffee, but it isn't exactly like coffee, it's like watered down coffee and tongue."

"That's gross, Craig."

"It's _your_ tongue."

We pick an old movie to watch because there's really nothing on and end up cuddling because it's fucking cold and I don't feel like making a fire because what if we fall asleep and the house burns down and we die?

Craig plays with my hand for a while and neither of us talk for the first half of the movie but I don't think either of us is really watching. "The weather sucks," I say. I say it only to see how Craig will respond.

He says, "Yeah, it's too fucking cold." And for some reason this makes me feel better. Maybe it's because I know now that he's not twisting around my fingers, thinking about how and when he'll break up with me and if he'll ever even talk to me again after he does.

"But Christmas is in a few days."

Craig shrugs, "Christmas is never really good for me."

"Me either," I admit. Christmas is usually family time and I don't really like mine. I'd rather spend my time off alone. I don't care much for gifts.

"How are your parents?" This might be the first time Craig's asking _me_ that question.

I laugh, "They think I'm fucking Kenny so they've been amazing. I hate them," I add quickly.

Craig chuckles, "You've been hanging out a lot."

"Only when I'm not hanging out with you." This makes Craig quiet. "Not saying I would but Kenny is straight anyways."

"Kenny's a mess and a piece of shit."

"Are you suggesting Kenny would kiss me just to piss you off?"

"You make it sound crazy."

I laugh. "No, it just is crazy."

"Shut up."

"If Kenny ever saw a dick, he'd probably explode."

"Whatever," says Craig.

"What about you?"

"I've seen your dick."

"No, Craig. I meant your parents."

"My parents?" I nod. "Uh," he says. "I don't know. We don't really talk."

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "I've decided I'm just gonna lie to them for the rest of my life."

"Craig, what the hell."

"They won't ever be okay with me being gay."

Craig just admitted to being gay and I don't even think he realized. It's just that's the first time he ever said it, which is notable because I can't really say he's gay unless he comes out- or at least respectfully so. And he specifically would not. It seemed like something he'd never do. I didn't even know if he was gay. Now a days there's all kinds of words for it: questioning, queer, pansexual, or whatever. "So why should I even tell them? It's just gonna stir up some shit. I'd rather just avoid it all."

"What about when they start asking to meet your girlfriends? You wouldn't marry some lady just to make them happy right?" This kinda translates to, 'you're not gonna just break up with me to make them happy right?'

Craig shakes his head. "I don't think they'll care but fuck that, I'll deal with that problem when I am get there."

"That kinda sucks."

"I keep trying to picture it," he says, staring at my palm he's holding. "Today, tomorrow, next month, next year, ten years from now and I can't see myself being okay with them knowing."

"Well, yeah, that's what you'll think until you can see yourself."

"Hm," he hums.

"The problem is you, man."

"What?"

"Yeah," I tell him. "Accept that you like dick. Once you do, tell a stranger. Be like, 'hey, I like dick. Boobs are nice but vaginas are sick.'" Craig laughs. "And then, tell a friend, then like, your sister or something... and then eventually, you'll be okay with telling everyone how gay you are. Don't even worry about it." He sighs. "I can tell you're still worrying." I'm not worrying because Craig is already on the way to doing what I just said. I can tell because he just said he was gay like nothing and didn't even notice.

I take my hand from him so I can wrap my arms around him instead. "Why don't you believe me?"

He shrugs, "I don't believe myself."

"You lack confidence."

"My parents make me self-conscious." I squeeze him tighter.

"Maybe one day they won't," I say. Craig just smiles and shakes his head and watch the rest of the movie. When it ends we shut off the TV and kiss for a while and it's nice. It's the least weird thing about the last few days. Craig leaves before my parents get home.


	26. How You Are

p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I'm exhausted. I never sleep but I'm never this tired. I think I'm getting sick or something. I just feel so shitty. It's possible that my mental state has gotten so bad it's affecting my physical state too which is just the shit cherry on top of my shit sundae that, in this metaphor, represents my life./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I don't even know how I got here. I remember being happy for a while there; like, more than usual even./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Christmas was a flop. I got a ukulele from my parents, boots from Craig, flavored lube and condoms from Kenny, an art kit from Wendy, a gift card from Token and Clyde got me a mug that had a small compartment on the bottom for holding cookies which, even though I found it completely impractical, I greatly appreciated it. It made me feel weirdly good getting a present from him. I'm not one to go out of my way for other people. But I finally got Craig an E-Cig. I figured that would be better than a vape. I didn't get anyone else anything. I should've gotten everyone else a gift and then not given one to Craig. That was too mean./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"That isn't why Christmas was a flop though, no the presents are probably the only thing that would save the event from being a total shit show. I had a huge argument with my parents. It started with my mom talking about my medication again and it ended with me shouting that I'm fine and letting it slip I'm still with Craig. So. Yeah./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"In regards to Craig... I mean, I don't know. Sometimes he's good and when he is it's great. It makes me forget about it all. We're able to go into our own little world sometimes so it doesn't matter where we are. That is, until Craig gets too paranoid. And when he's not good, it's horrible and sad and just so sad. Lately, it's been seeming more of the latter and lately it's been seeming more of my fault that it's that way./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Clyde hasn't been less of an asshole, as much as he's just been really quiet. Token struggles to keep us where we usually are. He fills the empty air with stories about his parents or complaining about teachers, basketball and sports, even cars because he apparently likes those. And Clyde will say something. And I will say something. And Craig will frown and stare into space like he's pretending to be alone which, I'm sure none of us feel good about (us being Token, Clyde, and I and not Craig. Because I don't know what Craig ever thinks or feels. He makes me think he's the bipolar one.)/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I had the first panic attack I've had since Eric Cartman stuck his fat sausage finger in my ear. It wasn't bad but it was different than my usual panic attacks. I just felt like it really wasn't okay because it really isn't. It made it harder to come out of it. I felt alone too. Even though the nurse and the counselor and some administrator was there. I felt like I was in a cell, alone./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"When I came down though I really didn't feel like going back to class so, in typical Tweek fashion I left, grabbed the old razor and rode to my favorite hill./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"This time, no Wendy showed up when I smoked on the swing and the cashier didn't even say anything when I bought cookies and a coffee from the convenient store by school. And I know he knew I was high./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"When I get back to school it's the end of lunch. I manage to catch Craig before class and pull him into the bathroom for a quick make out. Because I'm hoping he'll come home with me today and this way he'll be thinking about it all day and be more likely to come with me./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"The rest of the day I go to my classes and I try to just be quiet and unnoticeable and am fairly successful, I guess. At the end of the day I snag Craig from Clyde and Token./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Come over," I mumble, as close to him as he'll allow at school. The hall is mostly empty though. There's hair sticking out of his hat that I want to tuck away but I don't./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He doesn't say anything and kind of looks away but I stare at him because I know it'll make him say yes. "You don't want to?" I ask./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""No, I will," he says./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Then why is your face like that?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I'm just thinking," he says which gives me an unsettling feeling in my gut. I wish he'd finish that sentence with what he's thinking about because it wasn't a good face./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig asks Token for a ride and he's real chill about it. I think Token and Clyde really like it when Craig and I are together because they think I make him feel better. One can only hope. Also I think Clyde's given up on him. Which makes me want to punch in Clyde's stupid face but I don't./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I'm not confrontational./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"My parents aren't home. I mean, that's why I invited Craig over and he probably could've guessed it. So after we wave to Token and Clyde and get inside I grab him and crush my lips against his. It's desperate and I don't even care. Neither does Craig. He pushes back and we stumble to the couch./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Too quickly we're both naked and hard and too quickly I'm inside him and too quickly we're both covered in come and panting heavily. I guess I feel better but I kind of don't and that's scary./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Because if sex with Craig doesn't make me feel better, what would?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"We stay together on the couch naked and watch TV but it's more just me playing with Craig's hair until he falls asleep which doesn't take long./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I get up to make some coffee and I'm almost certain I woke him up even though his eyes stay closed. When I come back to the couch he's staring at the screen./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I had a panic attack today," I say sitting at the end of the couch. Craig moves and rests his head in my lap./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""What class?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I chuckle, "Like, first period." I twist a black lock of hair around my finger as much as I can. It's hard because his hair isn't that long anymore./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He's quiet. "Why?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I shrug. "Sometimes they just happen."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig stares at me long. "Yeah," he looks away. "Tweek," he says./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"A shudder goes down my spine, "Yeah?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"He glances at me again and then Craig pulls me down and kisses me. "What?" I say, smiling a little. But Craig just looks at my face and kisses me again./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Um," I kind of chuckle. "You okay?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig sighs. Whatever he wants he's having trouble articulating which I'm used to at this point it's just a little worrying./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig kisses me one more time but this time when he pulls away slightly he says, "I emreally/em like you."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"That unsettling feeling returns and sits itself comfortably in the center of my gut. But this should be a good thing. Why doesn't it feel like a good thing?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I really like you too, Craig..." I tell Craig sincerely. I'm not sure what else to do. But Craig doesn't look satisfied./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""And you know," Craig starts. "When I get angry and stuff it's at myself and not you right?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I snort, "I guess?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I'm trying..." he says, "emreally/em hard," he adds. "Even though it doesn't look like it."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I believe you," I tell him, petting his hair. "It's fine, Craig. If you're not happy, man."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig shrugs, "I just wanted you to know you're helping and I appreciate it."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""What a weird and random thing to say but thanks," I lean down to kiss him. "But I don't really care if you're angry at me or yourself, I'd just rather you just be happy." Craig smiles and laughs at that a little. Then he nods like he knew I'd say some stupid shit like that./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""What do you wanna do when you graduate?" he asks me./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I shrug, "I don't know. I'd leave but I don't know where'd I'd go or what I'd do without my parents. Plus, if I'm weird in South Park, could you imagine how fucked up I must be in the real world?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""It's South Park," he tells me. "Not you."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Thanks."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""What if we left together..." Craig tries to say this nonchalantly. He says it like he's asking me to go out to lunch or about homework./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"So I don't believe him. I laugh. "Yeah, we could go to San Fran just like Mr. Garrison."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"I laugh really hard at myself but Craig just shakes his head, "Could you see me in California?."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"So I stop laughing. "Are you being serious?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Yeah. It's nice but I'm over it. I'm not saying I wanna move to Florida because fucking gross but like, not San Francisco."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""No," I say. "About me coming with you."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Well, yeah," he says. "I mean, it'd be easier for rent if we were roommates and if you came I'd have an instant roommate. I don't know what we'll do or where we'll go but there's still a lot of time and shit."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Craig..."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Oh Jesus Christ, Tweek, don't cry."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""What'd you mean? You basically just asked me to marry you."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig laughs and runs his hand down his face but he doesn't deny it and that makes my heart flutter happily in my chest, blowing away that stupid feeling in my stomach. "What about New York?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig laughs, "No. Absolutely not."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Why not?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I'm not going anywhere where it snows."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I don't wanna go south."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I don't wanna go north."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Fine, I don't wanna go emtoo/em south."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""We're already pretty south, Tweek."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Georgia, Texas, Mississippi..."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Craig groans. "What about Arizona?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Does it snow in Arizona?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""I don't fucking know."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""A small apartment or luxurious mansion?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Smallest thing we can find."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Freelance artist or boring accountant?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Freelance accounting," Craig says./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Kids or no kids?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;""Jesus," Craig laughs. "I don't know. I can't raise a kid. We can barely take care of ourselves." We laugh./p  
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"We laugh and then we kiss and laugh and then we kiss more and then somehow I'm inside Craig again. This time is different though. In a, 'we have a mutual deeper understanding of each other' way and it's not at all scary. I even fall asleep after./p 


	27. Friday and Saturday

I am concerned or… I guess, I have concerns.

I knock on the door with the back of my knuckles before shoving it back in the pocket of my hoodie and waiting… uncomfortably. It smells really good inside, like food. I can smell it through the door. I hear some movement and the door opens. Clyde looks confused. I'd be confused to see me too.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What's up?"

"Um." I look at my boots- my new boots. "Can I ask you what happened? With Craig? Before." I glance at him. It's not like it was too hard to figure out… I _think_ I've figured it out but, I don't want to be right.

Clyde looks at me and then he looks past me. "I don't know…"

"What? Why not?"

"Because, Craig got really mad at me last time," Clyde says. "And he's right. It's not my place."

"You know Craig'd never tell me though." I argue.

"Then he doesn't want you to know."

"C'mon, Clyde, I'm his boyfriend. I care about him a lot. Don't I deserve to know?" I argue.

"He should tell you…"

"If I guess it," I say quickly. "Will you tell me if I'm right?"

Clyde's silent. "Did he... try to- um," I hesitate. "Kill himself..." The words are too heavy. It's hard to get out because I can't say it without thinking of Craig being at such a low point, he didn't think he had a reason to live. Then I start thinking of the ways he could've done it and I have to stop myself.

Clyde contemplates. He glances behind himself inside his nice warm house and then he sighs. "Okay," he says. He shuts the door behind him and steps onto his porch with me. He looks at me, "I swear to God, Tweek," he says. "If you go running back to Craig after this and then I get a call or an angry little boy with braces on my doorstep, I'm gonna punch you in your face. Like, I'm really gonna punch you in the face."

I nod slowly.

"Craig has depression."

"I know."

"He told you?" I nod. Clyde looks away. "Well, he used to get it really bad like, all the time. It was crazy. He was like two completely different people. One Craig was nice and funny and he even went out of his way to do nice things, you know? Then he'd turn into a demon that hated you for breathing. But you couldn't get mad because he was hurting so much. I couldn't help him. I didn't know how. But I knew something was wrong.

"We got into this huge fight one day where he slapped me and I told him not to talk to me anymore. I didn't actually mean it," Clyde tells me. "I was just upset," he tries to explain. "I was always there for him. I just wanted him happy and he would just insult me and shout at me and then he hit me and I was just done." He shakes his head. "I was trying to call him to apologize and get some pizza, smoke weed, or something- something stupid and pointless and he wasn't answering. For some reason, I just knew…"

I blink at Clyde. I've never seen him look so mature. I wish we were better friends. He shakes his head again and sighs, clenching his jaw. "I drove to his house and his parents weren't home but, I don't know," Clyde says. "I just _knew_. I tried knocking and no one answered and when I was finally about to leave, I heard a noise, like something being dropped. I looked through all the windows and couldn't see anything but, I just knew," he repeats. "So I broke the window.

"When I walked in all the lights were off and it was so creepy. I checked the bathroom and the kitchen and then finally I went upstairs to his room and Craig was standing on a chair," Clyde chuckles. When I look at him, he's wiping at his eyes. "He had a belt around his neck. I couldn't believe it even though I _knew_. My mind ran through eight billion other reasons why a belt was around his neck right then but why else would he have a _belt tied around his neck_?" Clyde never directly says it.

"What happened after that?" I ask quietly.

Clyde shrugs. "I pulled him down and we talked."

"Why'd he do it?"

"I don't know," Clyde tells me like I'm stupid. "Why would anyone rather be dead? Life is amazing. Some things about Craig I will never understand."

"Do his parents know?"

"No. I promised Craig I wouldn't tell them if I could tell Token. He said okay but I couldn't tell anyone else." Clyde shrugs.

"You don't think though," I start slowly, "he'd do it again?"

"What?" Clyde says. "Why would you say that?"

"I'm just asking a question."

"Did Craig do something?"

"I don't know. You don't think he's been acting weird?"

"He gets depressed. He's probably depressed."

"What?" I'm baffled by this logic that Craig's just depressed, not suicidal, as if the two don't go hand in fucking hand. "Then we should be worried?!"

Clyde shakes his head. "I think he's fine," he says. "You didn't see him back then. He just shut down, disconnected. He still wants to be around us so..." Clyde trails off. "Plus, I'd like to think if Craig were feeling that way again, he'd talk to me about it..." Clyde shrugs. "At least, I'd like to think so."

But somehow I know that if Craig were suicidal again and he really meant it this time, Clyde would definitely not know. Because if he really wanted to, he'd know Clyde would stop him and he'd also know that Clyde would be onto him. So, he'd probably act towards Clyde how he assumes Clyde sees as him getting better.

My stomach churns and I start to feel sick. "Okay," I say.

"It's not like I'm not keeping an eye on him," he says.

"You've been really gone lately," I say, still in thought and not really thinking about my words.

"Yeah, but-" Clyde stammers. He scoffs, "He's been with you all the time. It's different from back then." I nod. Clyde continues. "I'm- I'm not... Maybe I have been... a little bit." he says. "Craig and I talk though. Just cause you don't see it doesn't mean we don't. And he's been pretty okay, I think." Clyde sounds a lot like he's trying to convince himself more than anything and is barely failing. But he's still failing.

We're quiet for a long time. Just thinking. It's a lot to think about- your friend trying to kill themselves. Just, many questions really. And a better understanding about Clyde's insane behavior sometimes but also, I don't understand how he can be so chill about it all now.

"Thanks- um, for telling me."

"Yeah, no problem," says Clyde with his hands in his pocket. "Was he okay the other day? When he was with you?"

"Yeah, he was better than usual even... actually."

"That's good, at least," he sighs. "Well," he says.

"Yep," I say.

Clyde laughs, "I'll see you later."

"We're not hanging out tomorrow?"

"Nah," he says. "Craig's heading out of town to see his grandma so I'm gonna lift with Stan. You can hang out with Token if you want."

"Oh," I say. I pull out my phone. There aren't any messages. So I message Craig. I ask if he's going out of town tomorrow. Not because I don't believe Clyde but because Craig never told me and we saw each other today. "Okay, I'll see you later then..."

"Bye, Tweek."

Craig responds only a minute later while I'm walking down the sidewalk to my house. It's dark. He says yeah and he forgot to tell me. I say cool and have fun and all that shit. We text back and forth all the way home, which is unusual for us. Usually we only text if we need something or to tell each other something. But we text like we're together having a conversation. I tell him I was with Clyde. He's glad we're hanging out but admits it's a little weird to think about Clyde and I hanging out. If he knew what we were really talking about he'd be pissed. We talks about his sister being an annoying shit.

We text all night. About everything. Stupid things. Small things. The last thing I send to Craig before he stops replying is about cheese. I don't even know how we started talking about cheese. Then I fall asleep because I've been doing that lately. It's not necessarily a good feeling… it's complicated.

o.o.o.o.o

Today I'm working. I was pretty compliant this time actually, but I mean, I wasn't doing anything else today with Craig gone and I figure this could take my mind off of everything, maybe. So my mom woke me up, dragged me out of bed, and I'm behind the counter by six.

If I'm honest, I like working the shop early with my parents on Saturdays like this. When we just open and it's that morning lighting that's really bright. The birds are chirping. My parents play soft records in the same order every time. People come in only one at a time. Mostly workers this early but since it's Saturday it's not many.

My mom sweeps and hums. The floor's clean. She just likes sweeping. My dad does crosswords in the newspaper. His glasses barely hanging off the end of his nose. This moments make me happy because I just feel so peaceful. I like that my parents can do this for a living because I know it makes them happy. And even though they suck sometimes, I want them to be happy obviously.

After ten, the regulars show up. People set up with laptops to hang out or do work. We have casual coffee shop conversations while I make their drinks. My mom tells me I look adultish. I feel like I do too. I feel just really settled today. Not exactly good but just okay and not frantic.

When I check my phone to see if Craig ever responded, I realize it's dead. I stare at it a while. Usually, I wouldn't care. Who would be trying to call me anyways?

But what if Craig calls me and needs me?

I put it on the charger and continue working.

A few kids from school come in. Kyle, Stan, and Cartman, Bebe and Red, one of the goth kids, eventually Kenny. We don't talk much because he has somewhere to be.

I'm making a drink for Butter's dad when my phone turns back on. The screen lights up and I stop mid-step. It's flooded with notifications. I put the cup down and pick up my phone; 28 missed calls and 3 texts.

Clyde's text reads, _It'd be a really good idea to answer your fucking phone right now fuck face_ and then a, _Craig's in the hospital, call me_

Token's message is more structured which I'm immensely thankful for but wonder how he's able to stay rational in a situation like this.

 _Hey, Craig overdosed. He's okay but he isn't awake yet. You should call us and come down here. Sorry._

My hands are shaking. Butters dad is still talking to me but I don't even remember what we were talking about before. I put my phone down. I think I should call them... Why... _Why_? He was fine. He was better. He wanted me to leave with him. He made plans with me about the future. _Our_ future. What- _why would he lie if he knew_?

Did he really want to die that bad? Did he really think I couldn't help him? That _no one_ could help him?

I should call them. I keep thinking I should call them. It's the first thing I should do but I can't react. This doesn't even seem real. This can't be real. I chuckle but my eyes tear up. I hope this isn't real.

"Son?" I glance at Mr. Stotch. "Are you alright?" I shake my head. I shake my head a lot. I'm far, _far_ from alright. Not even in the same state as it. Craig overdosed. He's in a hospital. How long has he been in the hospital? I should call them. I'm gonna be sick.

I have to go to the hospital and make sure he's alright. Token said he was okay ' _but_ '. What does that mean? That he isn't okay? If he overdosed and he's unconscious, could he be in a coma? If he is, could he possibly never wake up? Have I already fucking lost him? I take a huge breath. Overdosed. Overdosed on _what_ though? A couple Aleve or a bottle of Prozac? I feel so sick, I think I'm gonna throw up.

I need to go to the hospital.

I take my apron off slowly thinking about everything and retaining absolutely nothing. Craig tried to kill himself, _again_. My throat closes. I could've done something. Why didn't I see him last night? _I should've seen him last time_. I had a feeling but how could I have known? _I should have known_. Clyde knew before and I should've known now. Isn't that what Clyde was always on about? Me protecting Craig?

I groan, grabbing my hair. Well, maybe I _could_ have if I'd known I was supposed to be protecting him from _himself_! I need to go to the hospital. I remove my visor. Mr. Stotch's voice has long turned into muffled background noise. I stumble around the counter.

But before I reach the door, more muffled noises catch up to me. " _Tweek, where are you going_?" A hand on my shoulder turns me around.

I see my mom but I don't _see_ my mom. I see red. I need to go to the hospital. "I need to go, mom," I stutter.

" _You will not walk out on your shift to see that boy_ again _,_ " she tells me.

Oh, my god, it's all my fault. It's all my fault. He's gone and it's all my fault. I feel dizzy and foggy like nothing I'm seeing is real. Everything I'm hearing is faint and my heartbeat is louder than reality. I want to be dreaming. That my boyfriend isn't dead and my parents aren't complete fucking pieces of shit.

"I need to go see him," I tell her. I wanted to sound urgent and desperate but instead I just sound very, very angry.

" _Tweek_ ," my mother warns. All I can hear is my heartbeat. All I can think about is that the last text I sent to Craig was about cheese and not how much I love him because I think I love him but maybe I _loved_ him. Because he could be dead. All I can see is every sign that never looked like a sign because I didn't know. How could I have known? _I should've known_.

I bury my face in my hands because it's getting hard to think. He didn't want me to come with him. He just wanted our last memories to be good ones. He wanted me to feel better even though he didn't. Maybe he thought he never would. Maybe he thought he could never be happy. Maybe he thought he could never be happy gay.

Maybe he thought he could never be happy with me.

It's all my fault.

 _It's all my fault_.

"It's all my fault." I shake my head, with my- hands still covering my face. "I need to go to the hospital."

" _Tweek_ ," my mother says sternly. " _I don't know what on Earth you're trying to pull but you will stay in this Café and you will finish your_ -"

* * *

 _I actually love you guys so much *purple heart emoji* ..._ _um, sorry btw lol ^ (did you guess craigs secret tho)_


	28. Messed Up

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I've been in the hospital for two days now. I'll skip the boring fillers. I may have gone off the deep end this time. It's not as bad as I thought it'd be when I first came to in a hospital bed. I thought my parents finally did it and committed me to the crazy house. But I'm just in the mental health wing of Hell's Pass which is something I never thought I'd see as relieving.

I've been really high the whole time I've been here which is why I've been able to keep so cool… which is also probably why they've made sure I've been high this whole time.

I don't know where Craig is or if he's okay. Token and Clyde and or Craig have not come in to visit me. Who knows if they even know I'm here or that I'm not home. Even though I don't have my phone and I haven't spoken to any of them. Who knows if they even care… Clyde was pretty upset and I guess he's justified in that. I guess. But, dammit, if I don't have a right to be pissed off as well. Why wouldn't they tell me something like that? Why wouldn't _Craig_? He was probably embarrassed. You know what? I don't care that he didn't tell me he tried to kill himself once, I care that he didn't tell me he was thinking about it again.

I could've helped him.

Maybe.

Fuck, this is all my fault. I start crying again. I've been crying a lot here. I figure, since I'm already here I can be as weird as I really am. Well, not really. I don't want to end up here forever, but I don't think they'd be too concerned about my quick burst emotional breakdowns since I'm a teen and mentally unstable.

Plus, here, everyone is so fucking nice. Because, here, we're all fucked up. There are the depressed people, the crazies, the old people, and the super nice nurses which is a shock because the nurses in the other wings of the hospital are so evil.

And every time I cry someone I probably don't even know will come up and pat my back and tell me everything is okay and will be okay. It's so comforting. I've never felt so supported.

Regardless, I need to get the hell out of here. It's nice but I can't stay here. It encourages my crazy.

Craig's gone. He's gone. My parent's hate who I am and I wish I could be someone they were proud of. I wish I didn't do so many drugs. I wish I hadn't punched the shit out of my dad and ended up here. I wish I had been there for Craig. I wish I had been there for Wendy. I even wish Clyde liked me. I feel like if I ever get out of here and everything works out, I'll make a better effort at being a human.

And the receptionist lady won't tell me Craig's room number. I know he's here. And I know she knows where he is, I can tell. Where else would he be unless he got better and was discharged? But since it was attempted suicide I highly doubt he's out a day later. He might not even be awake. If he is then he's probably being evaluated and shit. That sucks.

However, I relay this to Martha and while she looks sympathetic, insist that she can't tell me because of privacy and I'm not family. Probably realistically, it's because she thinks I'm crazy. But I'm pretty damn determined.

She's not mean. Martha's nice, got a son in elementary. He plays the piano. I tell her all about Craig and my friends or my... 'close acquaintances'. I tell her about my parents and my art. She seems engaged but you never know with these people. They're good at playing these parts. Mental health nurses, I mean. For the most part, I'll add as well.

Then I tell her about what happened because I've been telling everyone in the hospital who will listen. I think I'm coping but it doesn't feel like it. Maybe I'm forcing myself to try to cope. It isn't working but I'm still trying. If I don't I'll lose it again but the medication wouldn't let me.

I keep going back to Friday before Craig and I went home. That day I hadn't kissed him because we were at school. I didn't even hug him, or say goodbye now that I think about it. We talked about the test he took in biology and how he hates his teacher and biology and high school and tests. I told him biology was easy and that's when Craig found out I was on honor roll. It was pretty funny. When I smile thinking about it I immediately follow it with a frown. I shouldn't be smiling. It's not that there's nothing to be happy about, but there's more (much more) to make it so I would never be happy again- or at least, for a very long time.

Anyways, Craig and Clyde went on about how they both thought I was really dumb and Clyde had actually thought I was failing because I always walk out of class. But I have a better grade in that class than he does so there. We laughed after that. And then Craig and I made fun of Clyde for being a dumbass. Token and I made fun of Craig and Clyde and claimed to be superior. We laughed more. I told Craig I'd help him with biology and then we just left. I walked home. Craig left with Clyde and Token.

But what if I had left with Craig that day? What if we had gone home together? And I convinced him to stay the night? Then we'd just be waking up right now probably. We'd maybe smoke, watch a movie, or hangout. It wouldn't matter.

What if I had called Craig later that day? Just to talk to him? What if I had gone to his house after seeing Clyde? I should've just gone. It would've been so easy to just walk to his house. It wasn't much farther than my home. Maybe a little bit but it wouldn't matter.

What if I had gone when he stopped replying? Craig doesn't sleep. But I was actually tired... Still, I'd rather be exhausted _with Craig_.

Oh jeez, I'm crying again.

A woman doctor enters my room with a clipboard. She looks friendly but I'm not happy to see her. "Hello, mister Tweek, how are we feeling?"

"High," I say.

She kinda chuckles but it's awkward. She starts writing and my eye twitches. "Well, we're crying," she notes. "Wanna talk about that?"

"I'm in the hospital because I've been pronounced, 'unstable'. My boyfriend might be dead and Martha doesn't even give a shit. And," I say. "My parents probably hate me so... yep. Peachy."

It's quiet. She doesn't say anything because she's still writing. I clench my jaw and try to not grind my teeth but I do it anyways. What the fuck is she writing? She should just be listening. It makes me think she doesn't really care about how 'we're' doing. And she keeps saying we. How are _we_ feeling? _We're_ crying. _'We're'_ nothing. She's a doctor with a lot of money and probably a relatively easy life.

"Okay," she says. "Well, it seems like your current prescription is low... I'm just gonna up your dosage and then check back in a few weeks to see how we're doing. And if that doesn't work we'll try another medication. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like bullshit," I blurt out. "They weren't working because I wasn't taking them. So how about we not up my dosage? Yeah, we won't do that," I decide.

She raises her eyebrows at me and then continues writing. "Quit it," I tell her crossly.

"I'm only writing down informa-"

"You're writing that I'm crazy because I don't like taking pills that make me feel like not myself and it's bullshit. It's all bullshit," this comes out louder than I meant to and I briefly think that maybe I shouldn't be raising my voice. They already think I'm bat shit and angry. But I can't help it. I can't stop once I'm mad. I know it's not a big deal but I'm fuming. She doesn't even know me. No one here does. They wanna sum me up in ten minutes where I'm nervous anyways because I know what they're doing and then they think I'm worse than I am. I feel like they tell me I'm worse than I am. And how could they be helping?

"Please, Tweek," she glances over her shoulder, "calm down."

That does it. Before I know what I'm doing, the clipboard hits the wall next to the window. Because I threw it. Fuck.

"I don't wanna have to sedate you, Tweek," she says. "So, I'm going to come back later. And let you think."

My chest rises and falls too quickly. I hate getting worked up. This is why I never used to talk to people. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting in this hospital. But I can't help but wonder if Craig still would be...

And then I'm crying again. Full force. It hurts and I can't really breathe right. I sound ugly too. But I just feel so insignificant and nothing. I feel like nothing.

Now I'm thinking about Craig sitting on his penny board in an empty pool. Blue light reflecting off his face. He looked so beautiful then. How did I not kiss him right there? I wonder if he's been feeling this way since back then...

Another embarrassingly loud sob.

I wanna go home. I wanna be with Craig. And I want him to be okay. I want to finish school, walk the stage, hop in a car the same day, and leave with Craig. I don't care if he wants to move to Australia or Alaska. I'd go with him anywhere.

I cry as long as my body will let me. Which is surprisingly a very long time. When I'm finished, I wipe my face down with water in the bathroom but my eyes are red, puffy, and tired-looking. I don't care.

I start wandering again. In the hospital has turned out to be the best place to wander. There are so many people. And not the scary kind of people like at school or in town. Messed up people who don't care what you look like, if your hair sticks up crazily or your forearms are covered in scars from your wrist to your elbow. They're so interesting. In the best way. The stories I've heard in one day alone. These people have been everywhere, done everything, experienced some crazy shit.

I go straight to the vending machine; my holy savor. Their food is shit here and I refuse to eat it. It's too suspicious and I don't like food I haven't watched be prepared, except my mom. She's cool. Please don't cry again.

I get a Reese's and open it in front of the machine. I watch the people pass by in their scrubs. I wish I weren't here right now. I shove the whole peanut butter cup in my mouth.

I turn around. I was hoping to find the stairwell. I heard it was this way but instead I find a strawberry blonde fourteen year old girl with fresh pink braces.

We stare at each other. I pop the last Reese's in my mouth. This is sufficiently awkward.

She steps forward slowly until we're only two feet from each other. "Tweek," she greets.

"Um, Ruby..." I glance at a corner.

It's quiet. I wish I weren't here. She sizes me. "Figures you two would go off the deep end together too," she says, absentmindedly. "Why are you in here?"

"Well," I start. "When I found out Craig was here- _had_ been here- I flipped. Ended up punching my dad in the face... So..." I leave out the part about being bipolar even though it really ties the story together. Otherwise it doesn't really make much sense why punching my dad would land me in the mental wing of the hospital.

She nods slowly. "What did you hear about Craig?"

I blink at her, wondering why she's talking to me and why she's not blaming me. And what's with this question. Seems suspicious, if you ask me. "Not a lot," I say honestly. She stares at me the same way Craig does. It's almost equivalent to them saying something now that I've known him a while. It means she's reading me and understands something I didn't even verbally tell her. But since she says nothing I tell her that the most of what I know is he overdosed and probably on purpose, I think.

She nods, "Yeah." This does not sufficiently answer anything. If he had overdosed or if he did it on purpose. But, that's a Tucker for you. "It wasn't that bad. He's good now- well, you know, he's awake and stuff..."

"Oh," I say. "Good." This is awkward. It's so awkward. But Ruby doesn't move.

"Do you really like my brother?" She mumbles. Just like Craig. Worse than Craig even, but since I'm used to Craig I'm able to pick it up.

"I love him," I blurt out before realizing I'm talking to the same little sister who called Craig an abomination.

She stares at me again, with no real expression. She glances away. "Mm," she hums with a nod.

"Do you like your brother?" I wonder.

She's nods, "I love him... It's just... confusing." I like her choice of words.

"I'm sure if you talked to him it'd be less confusing."

"Yeah right," she says. I laugh and she smiles kind of I guess. "I don't want Craig to think his family hates him... for who he is," she finishes. "And," she says. "I've noticed how he's been lately... It's all my fault," she mumbles again, quieter, with a hint of sadness.

I get goosebumps because that's been my line since I got Clyde's texts. But somehow hearing Ruby say this makes me say, "I don't think there's anything anyone could've done." And I know I'm right but, I can't tell if I believe it myself.

Ruby stares off into the distance. She's probably blaming herself. She's probably remembering things she said or did. She's probably thinking about everything she could've done differently. "Even if there were," I say. "You have to just let it go. It happened. But, at least he's still here with us, right?" She nods. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know where his room is?"

"Of course I know where his fucking room is, dumbass." Jesus Christ, she's exactly like him.

"Can you tell me what number it is?" I can't help but think that if I were me from a few months ago, Ruby would be making me shit my pants right now. The Tucker clan is scary, for sure. But they're a bunch of frauds. Just like Craig.

Ruby thinks and sighs. "I guess," she decides. I'm so annoyed by how she says this. As if she would really tell me no with the circumstances. "It's 614," she tells me. "But I'd probably wait until we leave to reunite with him and... do whatever you two do."

"Is he... okay? Like, mentally?"

Ruby shrugs. "Craig's weird." She shakes her head. "Just talk to him," she says. "I gotta go back now... Bye." She walks past me. I watch her leave.

Now I'm standing in the hall again with people passing me. People in scrubs, some in gowns, and others casually dressed. I spend my last dollar on another Reese's.

I know Ruby said I should wait and she's right and I will but... I can't risk going all the way back to my room and waiting and checking. What if they leave right as I get back? Then Craig will be alone. And I'll be wasting time. I want to see him. So I go the hall his room is in and I stand at the end that doesn't lead to the exit. That's probably the way they'll go. And I'll just stakeout his room until I see them leave.

I sit in an empty waiting area and sketch an ugly bird. It was supposed to be a woodpecker but instead it looks like a mutated robin. Every time I hear a door open, I check the hall.

Craig's parents take forever. I realize that maybe they don't really wanna leave him alone either. But it's getting late anyways so like, don't they have a curfew for visitation? Wait, can they stay all night if they wanted? I tear up. I'm never gonna get to see him. What if he doesn't like me anymore? Because this is all my fault if you think about it from Craig's point of view. Whatever happened that night, I'm sure I provoked him. And then I pursued him. And without me, Craig would still be in the closet, hating most people but maintaining and getting by.

How bittersweet.

A door opens but I don't even bother- who am I kidding? I spring up because I wasted time pretending to not care and I peek around the corner quickly and carefully. I see a large balding man, a shorter woman in a dress and a coat, and Ruby. She glances back at me so fast it scares me. How did she know I was here? Then they leave. I think about a lot of thinks at the same time. So much I think I may actually have a panic attack but I can't right now.

I speed walk to Craig's room door and I swing it open. I maybe should've knocked.

Craig's room is not like mine. It has no windows, no TV, and no bathroom either. There's nothing but a chair and his bed.

He's in it, staring at me wide-eyed. Then he blinks the look away and averts his eyes. I shut the door before someone sees me and thinks I'm harassing patients.

He doesn't say anything. He looks tired and sad. His eyes are puffier than mine.

I grab Craig's shoulders and lift him up into a kiss. A hard kiss. But I keep kissing. He kisses back and my heart finally slows. Because if Craig hadn't kissed back I'm sure I would've lost whatever sanity I had left. We kiss for a whole minute. Not even a dirty kiss. Just a good kiss. An, 'I missed you' kiss.

I don't release him yet. I pull him in tighter and nuzzle my face into his shoulder and neck. I didn't mean to. I really tried not to but I break down. The ugly sobs come back full force. I dig into him harder and stain his gown with tears. Craig just holds me and rubs my back. I'm sure I'm not helping but what would I say? What _could_ I say? ' _I'm glad you're not dead'_?. So I just cry and hold him until I feel semi-okay. Then I stop. I pull a tissue out of a pack sitting on the table next to Craig's bed and wipe my face. It's quiet. He won't look at me. His lips are bruised now.

"Why did you _do_ that?" Is what my brain eventually decides is efficient enough as my first words to post-failed-suicide-attempt Craig. Craig just swallows. Ruby was right. He looks like nothing. "Say something."

He glances at me. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," I admit. I shake my head and shrug. "What the hell happen?" Craig sighs. "You acted like you were getting better."

"Because when I acted how I felt nobody wanted to be around me anymore..." he says quietly.

My heart breaks. Now I swallow. "Did I make you feel like that?"

Craig glances at me again before averting his eyes again. "Not really you, but you said before that I stress you out."

"Augh, fuck, Craig. I told you I never meant that."

"But you said it," he argues, weakly.

"Well, I'm sorry," I say. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about that and I'm sorry about calling you an asshole because you're not, you're fucking perfect. I don't even mean that virtually, like, you're actually perfect, Craig and I think about it a lot. Like your braces and- and your lip piercings- I don't know where they are now but I love them- and the way you say my name, and the way you yawn and when you laugh really hard- even if it doesn't happen much- and you have the most perfect eyes and your face when we have sex and your freckles and the birthmark on your back and the way you say fuck. You're perfect and I love you so- so like, if you don't want to be alive for yourself, can you stay alive for me? Please? I'll- I'll cook for you and I'll give you massages and we can watch all the weird foreign gore horror movies you want and I won't even scream... that much. You can come over just to be upset or cry or yell at me or punch me even. I don't care. I just want you to be here." I tried to throw it in the middle. Or I wouldn't have been able to get it out.

Craig's eyes are glassy. He doesn't look at me but he starts turning red. I start a small smile because I think this is a good sign. "Mean it?" He mumbles.

I almost laugh. "Yes. Of course I fucking mean it," I tell him.

He looks at me and then it happens. Craig's face breaks and he starts crying. But, unlike me, he's even perfect when he cries. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. He covers his eyes with his palms and hiccups.

"Jeez, move over." I push him to the far side of his bed and squeeze in next to him. I put my arm around his shoulder and pull him into my chest.

"Don't be sorry... There's nothing to be sorry for," I assure him.

"You're in here 'cause you freaked out," he says. He doesn't ask it, he knows it. And I don't think Ruby told him she saw me.

"Well, yeah, but that was like, my fault," I say. "If my phone wasn't dead, I'd have gotten the first call," I explain.

"But your battery was probably dead because you were texting me," he points out. "What'd you do?" He asks. He means why I am in here.

"Uh, I shoved my mom and I punched my dad in the face."

"Oh."

"I probably called them crazy names too. That's the worst. They haven't come to see me since yesterday when they dropped me off," I tell him. "They probably hate me," I say. "I shoved my mom to the ground. I wish I wasn't so messed up, for them. They worry about me all the time, spend all this money on counseling and medication; they get convinced I'm straight and everything might finally be good and then bam, I do shit like this. This is all the time for me, Craig. They hate me."

"What the hell, Tweek. That's fucking stupid," he says with a sniff. "They don't hate you. You're just paranoid. They probably just wanna give you some space." Craig's right.

"I just feel like I'm always disappointing them..." I say.

"Then stop disappointing them," he says.

"Wow, Craig, thanks. _Great_ advice."

"I mean, have you really tried not to? You continue smoking weed, drinking coffee, and not taking your medication- oh yeah, you drink too, I'm pretty sure those are like, top five things you don't do when you're bipolar."

"That's so lame," I shake my head. "Weed calms me down without it I'd go insane because sometimes, Craig my anxiety makes it hard to just be somewhere. And I don't take my meds so I can drink and I only drink at parties. Coffee... well, maybe I should stop drinking coffee but It's literally nicotine to me. And I don't take my meds because... I don't know. I can't feel happy. I just feel even. I'd rather be like me." Craig nods. "But you're right, I guess. I could be trying harder," I admit.

We're quiet. I hold Craig and he breathes into my chest. It's soothing.

"I- uh- told my parents," he says.

I'm not sure why this doesn't surprise me. "Did it go well?"

He shrugs. "My mom just said that she will always love me no matter who I choose to be with. So, yeah." Choose. "My dad was just kinda confused and Ruby's stupid ass was just like whatever. But, what're they gonna tell me after I just tried to kill myself? Honestly, that's the only reason why I told them. And I feel like I have nothing left to lose."

I realize that Craig parents are gonna see his lip and know it was me now. And that horrifies me. I also realize this is probably why Ruby stopped to talk to me. I pull him into me tighter. "But I don't think we should hang out at my house. It'd be too awkward and my parents would probably say something stupid like we can't be alone in a room with the door shut."

I chuckle. "Oh, for sure," I agree. "Whatever, this is great. Your parents know, they don't care, and now we can just be a thing. I mean, right?"

"Yeah," Craig says. "It doesn't matter anymore," he says. "I'm relieved."

"I wish you would have talked to me."

"That'd be so pathetic," he says.

"No," I argue.

"And I don't know what I would say."

" _Hey Clyde, remember how I have depression? It's pretty bad this time. I think I need some help_."

Craig groans. "I just couldn't."

"Why would you text me like everything's fine when the whole time you knew you were gonna try to leave me- and when you asked me to leave with you. Was that just something you said because you thought you weren't gonna be here?"

"I wanted you to remember the best me," he mumbles.

My heart breaks.

"You _are_ the best you, Craig," I say. "Well, drunk Craig is really cute so... I don't know. You might be second to him."

"You would say that. You have to say that."

"Okay? But I mean it."

"I'm not," he assures me. "Because I still did it even though I knew it would hurt you and my parents and Clyde... God," he says. "You should've seen him. He was so sad and angry. It felt like he wanted to punch me in the face and never let me go at the same time."

"I can imagine how he felt," I say.

"I'm sorry," he repeats.

I roll my eyes. "I said stop. We all want to blame ourselves but it's just gonna make things worse."

"You say that but I'm still gonna blame myself and I bet you will too."

"Yeah," I agree, softly.

After that we're quiet for a while, just together. I think we're just appreciating each other. Because after almost losing someone like that, you realize how much you took them for granted. But then Craig lifts his face to kiss my neck. He kisses for a while until I move so I can kiss him. I'm sure we didn't mean to but, I can't help myself. I end up straddling him. But, Craig doesn't even seem concerned. I like that.

" _Fuck_ , I missed you," I tell him. It's only been a day but it was a long day, worrying about if Craig was okay and trying to comprehend that he might already be gone. And I said fuck just to rile him up.

We kiss more, harder, wetter, sloppier. I don't care that we're in a depressing hospital room, I wanna fuck Craig. I really wanna fuck. If he says no, I'll stop but I really wanna fuck.

So I bruise his lips even more and then I kiss his ear and then I kiss his neck. He doesn't say anything, just kinda breathes a little louder. His hands tangle into my hair. And that's how I know Craig really wants to fuck too.

I lift his gown. He isn't wearing boxers. I get goosebumps. We really can't waste time. This is the worst place ever to have sex. Even worse than a car. I take my boxers off and throw them somewhere.

Craig grabs at me, pulling me up to his face to kiss him.

I stick my fingers in my mouth and slick them with spit. We don't have anything. But I'll do my best.

I lift his gown to his stomach and press my finger to his entrance. His grip tightens on my hair. I kiss him. Could you imagine if I'd never be able to kiss him again? I work my fingers inside him stretching and stroking, coaxing more sounds out of Craig. He's trying really hard to not make a sound and I am in no way helping. But that's the point.

Once I find he's even adequately prepared, I draw my hand from in him and replace it with the head of my cock.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he pants.

"Yeah," I agree but don't stop. More spit because, what can you do? And I don't want to hurt Craig.

I push into him. Slowly until I'm all the way in. Craig makes strained noises that he tries to muffle with my shoulder and then his hand by biting it.

It's hard for me too and I can't really bite my hand. So, I take a deep breath and lean my head against Craig's shoulder. Then I pull out. At first, I try to be slow but, fuck it. They should be happy if Craig's getting laid because it's a natural high or something, right? Whatever, it wouldn't be a bad thing.

Push. Heavy breath.

I'm really bad with this stuff. I know I need to be quiet but once I get started there's really no end until... the end. Each thrust gets faster, harder and Craig and I get louder and louder. It isn't anything crazy but if you were walking by the door, you'd probably have a lot of questions.

But, neither of us lasts long. Craig comes when I hit his prostate again and I come because Craig came without me even touching him. And that's magic.

I'm kind afterwards. I clean Craig up with a tissue. And then I pull his gown back down and cover him with a blanket. He looks sleepy now.

He shakes his head as I settle back next to him. "This sucks," he states. He leans onto my shoulder.

I watch him. "Do you still... ?" I don't want to say die or kill anymore. Ever, preferably.

"No," he says. "When I first woke up, I couldn't believe it. I was so mad but I pretended not to be. Because I wanna get out of here. Because I already knew what was gonna happen: a bunch of confused crying people, and machines, strangers invading my past, life, and mind, more sadness, and I knew it was gonna be worse than ever. I didn't do it for attention. I wanted to die," he says lowly. "But then, the attention wasn't so bad- not the doctors, they suck," he adds. "My parents and Ruby. Clyde and you. I don't know. I feel like we just have a better relationship now. I need to get the hell out of here though. They won't let me do anything. This is shit that would make someone want to kill themselves."

"How long are you in here?" I ask. "Do you know?"

"I lied to them- Everyone. Because I knew if I told the truth they'd try to keep me longer or like, put me in a real hospital," he tells me. "So I said everything that made it look like I just wanted my parent's attention and I'm a stupid teenager. So they'll probably let me out in a week or something... but I still have to see a therapist."

"Probably for the best," I say.

Craig gives me a look. But he knows I'm right. I mean, yeah, he's okay but he tried to fucking kill himself. I'm not gonna be mad if his parent take all the knives out of the house. I know that sucks for Craig, but he still did it and that means he could still do it again. And he's right, it'll be harder than it even was for a while. But after that it will be better.

"I guess I might as well quit smoking. Since I can't do it in here." I snort. It's not funny. It really isn't. But we laugh anyways.

Cigarettes. Who gives a fuck about cigarettes?

I lean my head on Craig's.

It's weird- for a lot of reasons obviously- but the irony is that Craig and I are both insomniacs but right now we're both so tired that we fall asleep on each other.


	29. White Walls and Cold Floors

**Probably Trigger Warning**

I had woken up randomly. Craig's parents were talking to my parents and a couple of nurses about us falling asleep together.

Apparently, they realized I was gone and couldn't find me so they called my parents. That's when Craig's parent conveniently showed up to visit Craig and... found me.

And since this is the first time I've been quiet on my own since I got here and the first time Craig's slept since he got here, they didn't really want to disturb us.

"Well, if he hasn't been sleeping..." Mama Tuck said. "It's fine," she finishes a little more certain of her decision. It's quiet for a minute but then Mama Tuck hisses, " _Thomas_ ," like she expected him to talk after that and he ignored her.

"What? I don't know. Craig's acting out, isn't that what teenagers do? We haven't been paying him enough attention and that's our fault. Now he's trying to kill himself and he has a boyfriend? What'd you expect? In a month, he'll be over it."

My dad scoffs, "Are you fucking kidding me? He's gay, Thomas! If you cared about Craig at all, you'd put aside all that Christ bullshit and try not to be an asshole for five fucking minutes-"

"Hey. Don't tell me how to fucking feel. I didn't ask for this."

"You think Craig did? You think he wants to be here, stuck to a hospital bed being analyzed?"

"He's trying to piss us off, get our attention," he says.

"Christ," my dad chuckles.

"My son's no fag."

"Craig doesn't needs this right now," my mom intervenes.

"Yes, because _you_ know what my son needs," Mama Tuck says sarcastically.

"This isn't easy for any of us and it certainly isn't for Craig."

"I don't even care!" Craig's mom snaps. "I just wish he would've said something- fuck- anything."

"There's nothing you could've done."

"But there is," Craig's mother cries. " _There is_ ," she assures my mom. It's quiet and Mama Tuck sniffs again. "Look, I said it was fine already. I'm gonna let Craig sleep and we'll come back later. There are still things we should probably talk about."

After that they move too far from the door to hear and I let myself fall back asleep. I don't know how to even feel about that. Craig was right. Being in the hospital might be the only reason his parents were okay with him coming out. My mom was right though. Craig doesn't need this- not now, not ever, matter of fact. If it comes down to it, I'm sure my parents would let him stay with us. But, I'm also sure his parents would do everything to make sure he would not stay with us. The bad thing is I'm starting to think it would just be easier to go back in the closet. Pretend it was all a phase, just so it'll be easier on us. I know better, but I wonder if Craig does though. And why am I doubtful?

Maybe they'll come around, once they realize that it isn't a phase and that Craig's still Craig either way.

But why am I doubtful?

I run my hand down my face. I'm not going to have an anxiety attack because I'm okay. I'm not going to have an anxiety attack because Craig's parents aren't even mad. Right now, it's all worked out and worrying about the future is pointless because who knows what's gonna happen anyways? I roll towards Craig. Luckily, he's asleep- really asleep. I wouldn't ever want him to hear the conversation I just did. I brush his cheek with my thumb. He immediately bunches his face up, agitated and flips. So I wrap my arms around him, cuddle into his back, and go back to sleep.

When I wake up again I've been moved. I can't figure out how Craig managed to sit up and move me to his lap without waking me. Then I wonder how he managed to do all that and grab my sketchbook from all the way on the far side of the table. And then I realize, ha, that Craig had my fucking sketchbook, that is ninety percent him. Just casually flipping through.

I stare at him until he notices but he just looks away unconcerned.

"Craig, what the shit?"

"What?"

I snatch the book out of his hands but he's already made it through a significant amount. "Asshole," I accuse.

"Liar," he shoots back. "I thought you said you weren't good enough for art school."

"I'm not."

"Fucking liar," he says again. "If you wanna go, you should go."

"Art degree?" I say. "Then what? Starve?"

"Everyone needs an artist, Tweek. Just go to a good school- one that gets you internships and jobs straight out."

"School's so expensive..."

"You're on the honor roll. What's your GPA?" I avert my eyes. "Huh?"

"4.0."

"4.0," he repeats. "Even?" I shrug. "Dude, get a scholarship, grants, loans- This is like legit plausible for you so why are you trying to not do this? I don't understand."

"Because I can't," I whine.

"Yes, you totally can. What the fuck. You'd rather stay here? I'll help you do your application."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I go off and what'd you do?"

"Who cares?"

"I fucking do!"

"Well then, I'll go with you."

"Why do you say it like it's no big deal?"

"'Cause, it's not."

"It is!" I argue.

The door opens and we both pause. It's only Kenny. He smiles, "Can't take my eyes off you fuckers for five fucking minutes."

"Kenny," I say. I'm happy to see him. I'd be happy to see anyone I think. I'm so over being mad. I just wanna get better. I think.

Because what if I don't like better?

"Dude, what the fuck happen?"

"It's my fault," I say.

"Nah," Craig intervenes. "It's really mine."

"Up for debate," I tell him.

"That's cute," he says. "I heard you flipped," Kenny informs me.

"What else did you hear?" I tried not to think about everyone who saw... everything. I wish it hadn't gone down like that. There. At all. Fuck.

"Mm," Kenny hums. He isn't gonna tell me. He's a good friend. But isn't it worse imagining what they said? Because it was probably the meanest thing I can think of. And then I'll start thinking of the meanest things I can. Freak. Insane. Lost it. Attacked. Crazy. Unstable. Mental. It makes me wanna laugh and cry at the same time. Which would only prove them right, wouldn't it?

"Nothing I could say to your face."

"Whatever," Craig says. "Doesn't matter. You never liked them anyways. And now when you go off to college, you won't give a shit or miss anyone." I roll my eyes.

"College?" Kenny asks.

"Ignore him."

"Okay," he says with a nod. "But, yeah, people know."

"How many?"

"I don't know. A lot. Everyone," he shrugs. "Sorry," he adds.

"What about Craig? Anyone know?"

"Nah," Kenny shakes his head. "Who'd have told them? I didn't even know," he says. "If they did, everyone was too busy talking about you."

"That's just great."

"It's weird. How you're both in here though," he says. "Have you fucked yet? Like in the hospital?" Kenny laughs when neither of us responds. "Of fucking course," he cackles. "Here's a gift then. Special just for you guys." He tosses me something from his pocket. "Since they took all your stuff right?" It's travel sized lube and two condoms. Where was this asshole yesterday? "Nothing else to do in here," he chuckles.

"So what else did I miss?" He asks.

I shrug, "I think you're all filled in, Ken. Craig OD'd, I beat up my mom, and- oh, Craig came out. Officially. To his parents but now, like, it won't matter if we tell anyone else."

"Mazel tof," Kenny cheers. "How'd that go over?"

Craig shrugs. "They made it a point to let me know that they still love me so that's a good sign, I think. Who gives a shit though?"

"I'm sure you would, Craig. If they hadn't been cool with it. And that would've been fine and completely reasonable."

"Shut the fuck up, McCormick. You don't know anything about me." I would argue that Kenny knows a lot about everybody but I'm sure Craig already knows that and doesn't give a shit.

Kenny sticks his tongue out at Craig. "Good then. Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Craig agrees.

"Then why don't you look happy about it?" he asks. "They didn't kick you out."

Craig throws his arms up, motioning to our setting. "I'm not even home to be kicked out!"

"Exactly," Kenny laughs. "I mean", he says, placing his hands in his pocket. "Did you sleep like that?" I nod. "And did your parents visit?"

Craig and I answer at the same time. Unfortunately, we have different answers. I try to look equally confused as Craig when he says no and I say yes. Kenny blinks.

"They didn't...?" I say slowly.

"What the fuck, Tweek? They did?"

"Well then, they saw you together and didn't even give a shit." I'm glad Kenny doesn't ask this because it's not that they didn't give a shit. They just... didn't give enough of a shit? Fuck.

"When were my parents here? Did you talk to them?"

I shake my head. "They- uh- didn't come in the room- They saw us- but they were outside the room mostly."

Craig groans. "Doing what? Why are you acting like you aren't gonna tell me?"

"I'll tell you... They were talking to my parents."

"What?" Kenny laughs at our conversation. "Talking about what?"

"Us obviously, Craig. Don't be dense."

"Tweek, you're really pissing me off." Kenny continues laughing.

"I don't know," I say. "They were talking about us. How I wasn't in my room and because I was in yours. They said it was fine. They didn't wake us up so nobody even cared." I shrug.

"And you didn't tell me this because...?"

"You don't tell me a lot of things," I mutter.

"He's got you there, Craig."

"I'm gonna punch you in the face, Tweek."

The door opens again. "Look, Toke, it's a fucking party."

"Clyde, Token," Kenny greets.

"Kenny," Clyde greets back. Then he turns to me. "Tweek," he says. "Not surprised."

"Ha, ha, asshole."

"How's it going?" Toke asks. I'm assuming he's asking both of us. But Craig's the only one to answer. A crisp fine. Because how does it fucking look like it's going? On a spectrum, I'd have to say it's going pretty goddamn shitty for us. I don't think it gets much worse. Maybe jail or prison.

Token shrugs. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say," he admits. "I feel weird if we just pretend like nothing happened."

"Then we should talk about it," says Kenny. He says it like it's the obvious solution.

"I don't want to talk about it," Craig says in return.

"Okay," Kenny says. "That's not helpful but okay."

"What the fuck would we need to talk about?"

"Jesus Christ, what wouldn't we need to talk about, Craig?"

"First of all, fuck you McCormick. I'm not even sure why you're here or who let you in. And what the fuck would you want to know?" Craig snaps. "How shitty I felt?" he asks. He's starting to scare me. "Or how long I felt that shitty? Wanna know what time it was? Or how I did it?- Let's talk about how I did it-"

"Craig," Clyde says.

"Obviously I took my antidepressants and obviously I didn't take e-fucking-nough."

"Craig!"

"He said he wanted to talk about it, Clyde! I'm talking about it."

"Fuck, why are you like this?" Clyde shakes his head, running his hands through his hair.

"Crazy, gay, or fucked up?"

I sit up and move to stand.

"I want to know what you were thinking!" Clyde shouts.

Craig laughs, "I was thinking I would die and then I wouldn't have to deal with any of this anymore. Feeling like shit and feeling like shit about feeling like shit."

"What did you think? We- we wouldn't care or- we wouldn't help?"

"I don't fucking know, Clyde. It didn't seem like an option."

"We talked before. I thought..."

"It wasn't about you, Clyde," Craig says. "I didn't want to be stopped. I thought it wasn't getting better because I just don't see how it fucking could."

"At least we wouldn't be in a fucking hospital," Clyde mutters.

It's quiet. I've got my legs hanging off the bed but haven't committed to the motion. Clyde's got this pout on his face and his arms crossed. He looks old. Token's staring at air. He looks disappointed. And Kenny looks uncomfortable. I don't think I've ever seen him uncomfortable.

I glance at Craig but he catches it. "What? You gonna give me more shit?"

"You need help, Craig..." I tell him. I scratch my hand and then I shake my head. "We both do."

Craig scoffs. It's quiet. He sighs. It's quiet. "Is that news?" He chuckles and the mood is slightly lifted.

"When do you get out?" Clyde says.

"I don't know," Craig says. "Tuesday. Hopefully Tuesday."

"That's not so bad," Clyde says. "I'll bring you you're work."

"Cause that's what I want."

"And I'll stay with you until you get out," I promise.

"Cause that's what I want," Craig repeats.

We all sort of laugh. After that I don't know what we talked about but we somehow filled an hour and a half. We played pictionary on Toke's phone and that was fun. But having fun in this place right now seems wrong and weird. And I feel like too much emotional stuff has happened today already and I just need to sleep alone.

When they all finally leave, I hop off Craig's bed and stretch.

"If you want me to stay I-"

"Nah," Craig says. "You can go. This beds too small for both of us." He's right.

"Okay, well, I'll be back in a few hours. Gonna sleep."

"Okay. Have fun." I stare at him. "What?"

"I wanna be better." He raises his eyebrows at me. "I wanna try to be better," I rephrase.

"Good," he says. "I'm proud of you."

My heart does that thing again. "I love you," I blurt out. But before he can respond or... not respond. I kiss him. One more for the road. A nice kiss. An, 'I love you' kiss.

And then I grab my sketchbook and I walk to the door slowly. There's no way he's not going to say it.

"Tweek."

I turn back.

"I love you too."

I smile and it's so lame. I can't stop. "I know, asshole."

He flips me off. I leave.


	30. Space

My parents came to visit me the next morning. My mom had bags under her eyes. She usually does but not this prominent. My dad was quiet and gave me coffee. I felt like I should have said something. Anything. _Sorry_? For sure. But I didn't. I sat quietly until my mother spoke.

"Tweek," she started, sounding drained. "Your father and I are sorry… We really fucked up." I'm baffled. I still don't say anything but how can my mom be apologizing to _me_ right now? As if I hadn't shoved her to the ground. As if I hadn't punched my dad in the face… As if I'm not the lamest excuse of a son. A fuck up. I'm a fuck up. It's really not their fault either, is it? And yet, my mother is apologizing on both of my parent's behalf… right now. I could laugh but not because I find it funny.

I don't know what to say. Luckily she continues. "I wanted you to trust us. I wanted you to feel comfortable about talking to us. And then when you did, we just… really fucked up. I don't know what else to say but sorry. I feel like a shitty mom."

"Mom"

She cuts me off, "Don't, Tweek. It's not your fault. Don't apologize. None of this is your fault or Craig's fault."

"Well, it's not your fault either then," I say. What I did was not okay. Are they just gonna let all this slide like nothing happened?

She smiles. "Okay," she says. "But we still apologize."

"Whatever. Forgiven."

"They say you can leave as soon as you talk to the doctor," my dad says. I get the sense that he knows about the clipboard incident. I avert my gaze, chewing my cheek. "So, can you do that for us?" I nod slowly.

"Have you spoken with Craig?" My mom asks even though she knows I have. Because she saw us. She talked to Craig's parents about us. Maybe my mom doesn't exactly know what to do about Craig's parents either… I nod again. "Is he okay?"

I shrug. "I don't know," I tell her honestly. "Can he be okay?" Can someone who just tried to kill themselves be okay? I'm sure. Some would probably even be relieved. But, I don't think Craig was relieved… at all. "I guess he's better than he was…?" Relative to what, though? Him yesterday? Or him before he ended up in here?

My mom nods knowingly which is reassuring even though I know it's not likely she understands what I mean. I want to hug her but I don't think she wants to hug me.

"Are you hungry?"

My head snaps up. "I'm fucking starving," I tell her.

My mom gives me a look but says, while grabbing her purse, "We'll go grab you a burger or something." She stands next to my dad. "Talk to the doctor, Tweek. Please?"

"So we can go home," my dad adds.

I roll my eyes. "I know, dad. I'll talk to her."

"Thanks you, son. We'll be back in ten minutes." They shut the door behind them.

I close my eyes and count to a minute. When I'm finished I hop out of bed and rush into the hallway. I just wanted to make sure they were out of the vicinity before sneaking into Craig's room. I'm quick so no one sees me and thinks I'm doing anything suspicious. Even though, well, I guess I am. Whatever.

I click the door behind me softly. The lights are off so he must still be asleep. It is pretty early. I flip the switch on because there's no windows so it's really pitch black. Craig doesn't stir. I've never seen him go without his hat for so long. It's weird. It makes him look so vulnerable. I push the hair away from his forehead, "Craig."

Usually when I touch him in his sleep, he gets annoyed. But, I do it anyways because it's cute. This time though, Craig doesn't even stir. It's just something I notice. So, obviously, since I got a different reaction I'm gonna continue.

I slip my hand beneath the blanket and onto his thigh, caressing it. My heart pounds which means this is probably something I shouldn't be doing. But my hand moves up and grazes his inner thigh regardless. These things have a mind of their own, I swear. "Craig," I repeat. Craig sighs and shifts his legs apart slightly. My head spins.

I can't do this. "C Craig, wake up." I shake him.

Craig speaks before his eyes open. "What?" he mumbles and then his eyes open, "Why are you touching me?"

I pull my hands back and laugh, "Don't worry about it." I hop onto the bed. "My parents came and talked to me earlier. They're pretending everything didn't happen basically. My mom made it seem like it was her fault, you know?" I climb over him. "It's shitty. She's blaming herself for raising me wrong. And she doesn't even… think about how that sounds." I shake my head. "Whatever. They're bringing me food soon. You can have some if you want and I know you will."

"Tweek, what are you doing?"

"I know you just woke up, but you have morning wood anyways so…"

Craig groans, "We can't do that in a hospital."

"We already did though," I argue.

"Yeah," he says. "And I can't believe we even did it once."

"I know," I agree and then I start kissing his ear. "I can't believe we only did it once."

"C'mon, Tweek."

"C'mon, Craig. Kenny was so kind to bring us gifts. We can't waste them. That's money."

"Oh, my god," he groans. My hand moves back to his thigh. "What if someone walks in? I potentially will have to see these people for a while after this. I won't be able to look them in the eyes if they've seen me being fucked."

"I like how that sounds." I kiss his neck. "You being fucked." My hand moves under his gown.

"Tweek, dammit."

"Do you want me to stop?" I purposely glide my hand close to his groin without touching him. Close, away, closer… away again. Craig's eyes close and his brow furrows.

"I don't want you to stop but you need to."

"I'm not hearing a definite no." Surprisingly.

"This isn't fair," he says.

"I think it's fair," I say, continuing to kiss his neck over a faded hicky. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

"You got me into it before I was even awake."

"Nah, you had morning wood prior to me being here. And all I did was touch your thigh, Craig."

His head falls back and he looks contemplative. Then he runs his hands down his face. "Fine. Quick, though. No bullshit."

I smirk, wondering what counts as bullshit. Foreplay? "You're no fun." I kiss Craig, reaching between our bodies.

Twenty minutes later, we're sweating and panting and we may have… accidentally stained his sheets which I think Craig's pretty pissed about but can't really be angry because he just got off.

"I hate Kenny," he says.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he encouraged this shit."

"Wow, was it that bad? You're the one who said make it quick."

Craig laughs, "Asshole," he says. "It wasn't bad. You know what I meant." I did. But, I like hearing his reassurance. For anything really, not just sex. Craig sighs. "Do we have a problem?"

This time I laugh. "No, I think this is normal." _Teen boys with a high libido?! Bite your tongue._ Yeah, no, I think not. "Maybe not the public part, but that's more of a me thing."

"Yeah?" Craig says. "You get off on that?"

"I wouldn't say I get off on it but isn't it exciting?" He shrugs, smiling. He's so full of it. "So, what's up?"

He shrugs again, "You know, maybe my parents aren't so cool with me being gay after all."

"What gave it away?"

He glares at me but answers with a glance towards the bedside table. There's a fresh newly bought bible. I laugh, "Oh, my god!" I grab it. " _365 days to God for teen boys_? What the fuck is this shit?! That's so good, Craig. Have you read any yet? I'm gonna cry. Priceless."

Craig kinda smiles a little more. "No," he says.

I flip it to the first page. "January first, _do you know that God thinks about you_?" I say. " _He thinks about you so much it can't be counted. Isn't that_ … incredible?" I turn to him.

Craig laughs, "That's pretty amazing."

"Is it getting to you?"

"I don't think so," he says. "Actually, yes." It's quiet. He says, "It'd just be hard if after all this, they're still… They just can't look past it. Why does it even matter? Honestly, it wasn't you that made me question God's existence. It was them. Like, they said he created me this way, but at the same time, they tell me he doesn't want me to be this way. It's like they think I'm faking or something." He shakes his head. "What do I have to do? Why do I even care so much about what they think? I don't think they're good people."

"They're your parents so they're always gonna make you feel shitty. Whether they mean to or not. Whether they _think_ they are or not.

"I'm tired of being in here."

"Yeah, well, I get out today but I'll stay with you if you want."

He shrug, "That's okay. You don't have to. I just want to convince these people to set me free. I feel like I'm in prison."

"So, if you were honest, they wouldn't let you leave?" Craig just looks at me and then looks away. "Um, do I have to worry? Well, I am worrying. Why would you say that?"

"This wasn't the plan, Tweek. I'm still trying to… process."

"Shit, Craig, what do you want me to do with that? Am I supposed to just be okay with leaving you alone now?" He doesn't say anything. "You're so fucking selfish. What about Clyde, what about Token, what about fucking Ruby, and me? I know you think there's no way it's gonna get better but it's not always gonna be like this. If you're lonely, you can call me or Clyde or Token, right?" Maybe we're just not good enough anymore. "If we can't make you happy, there has to be something…"

"I wouldn't do it again," he mumbles. "I wouldn't," he promises. "It just all really sucks. If I'd known I'd be here right now, in the hospital, I mean, then I would've never done. I don't know why I did it. It was just too much. I thought…" he pauses and sighs. "That it'd be better without me."

"Don't think that. It's a fucking stupid thing to think. Because if you weren't here Craig no one would be happy. Not for a long while and even when people got over it, it'd still be there, this feeling, because, guess what? You wouldn't be there. There'd be a huge hole in a lot of people's lives. Your dad would see people with their sons, Ruby would see people with their siblings- It's so selfish. If anything's not fair, it's that."

"I know. It was stupid."

"There's nothing wrong with needing help. Why don't you tell the doctors that?"

"If I get help," he says. "It won't be by them. They just make things worse. You know what I mean? Plus, regardless, I'll be doing a lot of time in counseling or therapy or something equally as stupid."

"Don't get offended if I'm keeping an eye on you."

"Whatever. You're not like Clyde. I doubt it'd bug me as much."

"I have to go back to my room. I think my parents have been there a while," I finally say after a long moment of silence. "Food's probably cold. And I need to talk to this lady so I can get discharged."

"Okay," he says.

I grab Craig's face and kiss him hard. "I'll see you before I leave and come tomorrow morning. I won't stay all day if you don't want me to. But, maybe you're want someone to be here with you so I'll come either way." I kiss him one more time. "I love you."

He chuckles, "Yeah. Love you."

I smile. "Don't laugh when you say it asshole. Sounds insincere."

He flicks me off.

* * *

 _You guys, please, don't get me all sentimental :,)_


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